Too Many Times
by Bew0G
Summary: Darvey (happy ending) This is M-rated but T for everyone to see on the regular filters - based on season 8 spoilers and picks up not too long after Mike & Rachel's wedding. Read the first chapter to find out if this is something you wish to read or not. What I can say though is what if season 8 was the last and our preconceived expectations for the show were turned upside down?
1. Chapter 1

**Too many times**

 _Suits / Donna x Harvey (darvey)_

 **Chapter 1 - Come on and bare your teeth**

 _All my wounds are opened up_

 _They won't heal without your love_ _  
_ _Try to clear my troubled mind_ _  
_ _Too many times_

 _\- Ghost by WILDES_

 **Disclaimer: This story is rated M after a few chapters. You are not warned when those happen. So, if this isn't your sort of read, no matter how good the story is (:P), don't try it.**

Harvey's managing partner office made him feel good about himself. It allowed him to revel in the power that came with his position at – the somewhat definitive – Specter Zane Litt law firm. Recent power plays at the firm had made him think about his early motivations to become a lawyer. Samantha Wheeler had made her entrance at the firm in a dramatic fashion to say the least. Robert Zane's senior partner's intentions had been clear from the get go. She would become name partner within a year or be gone and her clients with her. Robert Zane wouldn't let that slide. And the man certainly wouldn't have accepted to have his name second without putting up a fight. And fought he had. The bargain became pretty clear. Harvey had Louis. Robert would have Samantha as leverage. As COO and a silent partner – Donna would still offer more leeway to the two former partners but he feared all of this could put her in jeopardy. The once tight-knit group could unravel under the influence of Samantha. Maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow but years of experience had taught him law firm mergers had everything to do with who would run it and nothing to do with who would keep it afloat. Harvey couldn't bring himself to think about Donna never looking after the functioning of the company as a whole ever again. The air would get thinner and thinner in his managing partner office if he did. Too many times had her job been on the line to protect him. Too many goddamn times she had stood up for him even though he was the one to blame. She had always determined the specifics needed to carry out his general plan. She was on an ejection seat. Her job would be on the line again at some point. The woman who had walked into that bar became his secretary, his confident and the decade-old one night stand that would change them for good; and would change his life for the better. The managing partner's office made no sense to him without the COO's being next door.

Around 9 PM, Harvey dug up an old publication about the practice of Law in New York State. He put an old jazz record on and poured himself a glass of scotch. He then sat down on the couch and began to read the most uninteresting law publication he possessed.

 _Section II. Admission to the New York State Bar_

 _D. Oath of Office_

 _Upon being admitted to practice in the state of New York, each applicant is required to swear or affirm the following constitutional oath of office:_

 _I do solemnly swear that I will support the Constitution of the United States, and the New York Constitution, and that I will faithfully discharge the duties of the office of attorney and counselor at law of the Supreme Court of the state of New York according to the best of my ability._

He remembered the day he was sworn in. And then he remembered hiring a fraud.

He also remembered Cameron Denis's antics and not jumping headfirst into a big mess.

He remembered letting Liberty Rail get away with murder to protect his secretary. And then he remembered asking Stew for a favor so he wouldn't have to fire her himself.

He also remembered his own antics and how he got away with hiring a fraud.

To this day and to the best of his ability, Harvey had cauterized different kinds of wounds: choices he had made at some point in his life. He realized he had always found ways to cover up shady situations. Every step of the way, he had made and broken lives. Mike was the selfless lawyer Harvey could never be. He cared too much. He'd become a lawyer for the money at first: why be broke and live right across the street from your mother when you want to get away from her? Then for power: why would anyone want to be told what to do and nod at disloyalty? The advisor doesn't have to pull punches so he wouldn't agree to disloyalty. The attorney has to play by the rules but defend his client to the best of his ability. This was the in-between he had gone for; so frightful to a young boy but so thrilling to a man.

Harvey drank a mouthful of his scotch and stared at the shelves in front of him.

Is this the life little _Harvey_ wanted? A dysfunctional marriage between himself and the practice of law? Harvey broke his thoughts down to one last question. _Harvey_. Why would anyone want to love _Harvey_ who cheats and plays people for a living?

"Harvey." He felt her hand on his shoulder, trailing lightly. "Alcohol can make you deaf, you know that?"

"I'm sorry, Donna. I was miles away." He watched her move out of his reach and sit on the opposite side from him. He was surprised to see her around so late. She had given him an update on the new temps at least thirty minutes ago and had told him she was almost done and ready to go home.

"It's okay." She offered one of her precious you-did-nothing-wrong smiles and added, gesturing at the glass he was holding, "got one for me?"

"Sure." He rose up from the couch to fetch her one. Harvey couldn't help but beam internally at the fact that she was still here.

"Said goodbye to my bridesmaid dress by the way."

"Why didn't you keep it, I don't under–" He poured the drink.

"It was a rental, Harvey."

"I don't understand why you didn't just buy it." Harvey brought her the amber-tinted glass

"Because it reminded me of a friend who's gone." Donna locked eyes with him as she took the drink from his hand.

She looked beautiful in her purple dress, drawing his attention to her lower-body with one leg pressed against the other. There. All Harvey wanted to do was sit next to her and tell her how beautiful she looked. He said the dress she wore at the wedding was beautiful instead.

"Well it was… is but now it's gone." Donna's tone was a surprise to him.

Harvey nodded and went back to sit on the couch. Donna was absentmindedly glancing back and forth between the glass in her hand and his upper body and physicality. He seemed more laidback with his rolled up sleeves and shirt slightly opened at the top. She sipped at the glass thoughtfully and then put it down. Her focus switched back to his eyes and she noticed he was staring at her.

"What?"

"I never apologized for asking Stew to hire you." He noticed her mouth quiver then, eyes gleaming in the dim light of his office.

"You did when you ripped my letter of resignation," she asserted as firmly as she could, crossing her legs.

"But I didn't say it," he stated matter-of-factly.

"Just because you don't say something doesn't make it less true," Donna said and added, feeling embarrassed, "Gosh, platitudes, Harvey, really?"

"I wasn't really thinking about the dress before." Harvey averted his eyes in the direction of the carpeted floor beneath his feet.

Donna couldn't stop staring at the man who rarely went for a disheveled look. But he had gotten it right. His hair was an artful mess. The words he had spoken barely a second ago and the way he was looking at her made her feel bubbly inside. Small talk with him these days always reminded her of the way he had held her in his arms four weeks ago; cheek to cheek, swaying to the music and yearning for something that couldn't be.

It was late. It was all too late. Their partnership had never been so perfect. She had to be strong for them both.

"I know." Donna uncrossed her legs and stood up.

He caught her hand when she strode passed him.

"Don't go…" he began, barely audible. Harvey was tacitly admitting failure to express the way he felt about her. How he wanted her seated on his lap. Moving her gently on top, he would bare his teeth in the crook of her neck to elicit moans of painful pleasure and murmur he wanted to see her bare instead of wearing any dress. That covered up look wasn't enough to make him feel content anymore.

But whatever she thought might be there, wasn't. Back to normal and yet it couldn't be further from the truth.

"Yet." He closed his eyes when he finished that sentence. The impulse to get out of this situation was too strong. He couldn't open up to her and was feeling faint-hearted at the prospect of rejection.

"What is it?" She felt completely taken aback by his words and gesture. They hadn't held hands since the dance. Years of no physical contact made soft touches hurt as if he were sticking a knife in her gut.

Still holding her hand as he rose up from the couch, he asked: "Do you ever feel like you just want to run away and leave everything behind?"

"Mike and Rachel didn't run away. They just moved forward." The gravity of the firm's situation and their conversation had made her choose her words carefully. She would let his question wane just for the sake of keeping him afloat.

"I'm asking _you_ ," he said softly.

"You don't want to know," she countered, her eyes wide open as if trying to hold everything she felt back.

"Tell me," he pressed for an answer.

"I've always thought that there would be a price to pay with such a decision." She heaved a sigh, seeing the unsatisfactory look on his face and added, "But yes, I do."

Unable to look her in the eye, he let go of her hand and thanked her.

"For what?" Donna searched his closed-off face.

He breathed in, leaned back on the couch and tilted his head back and said: "For never giving up on me."

He didn't say more and with that she left his office, a half-full glass of scotch on the table and a tight throat sensation.

Not having her in his life made no sense to him at all.

But what kind of a life was this?

Harvey picked up the book again, raised it to eye-level and turned to section three which read:

 _Section III. Membership in the New York State Bar_

 _C. Retirement or Resignation_

 _There is no provision for an "inactive" or out-of-state status in the attorney registration rules which would excuse an attorney from filing a biennial registration. All attorneys admitted to the New York state bar whether they are resident or non-resident, active or retired, or practicing law in New York or anywhere else must file a registration every two years, and if actively practicing law anywhere, pay the biennial fee. No fee is required for attorneys who can certify that they are "retired" from the practice of law._

* * *

Harvey knocked on Robert Zane's door and heard him invite him to come in.

"Working late too, I see." Robert smiled at the man he considered his friend.

"I need a favor Robert."

"What's it got to do with?" Robert took his glasses off.

"The woman I'm in love with," Harvey answered truthfully.

* * *

She never thought she would live to see that day. Running down the halls of Specter Zane Litt, almost breaking her high heels in the process, Donna went everywhere and nowhere at the same time. She bumped into Louis who was coming out of the elevator. He forced her to catch a breath, prevented her from going anywhere until she would explain why she was acting so frantic.

"Donna, calm down for a second," he said and asked, "What the hell is going on?"

"He… he's gone, Louis." She cried, handing him the letter she held in her hand.

"Harvey." It wasn't a question.

Louis took it from her and read:

 _I'm sorry, Donna._

 _I realize now that I've always needed more. I thought you kissing me had knocked me into a different life. But I was wrong. It was the life I knew I always wanted. I can't ask you to feel the way that I feel about you. I've been wrong so many times. But I was never wrong about you. You're the most amazing woman I've ever met and nothing and no one can ever change that._

 _I made a deal with Robert, and Louis will make sure you keep your job no matter what. I trust him completely._

 _I'm leaving because you need to live your life and I need to know what it feels like not to mind if you do._

 _You know I could never say goodbye to you so please, say it to me instead._

 _Harvey_

"Go," Louis said.

* * *

 **Sooo... well new fic. Should I continue? (already in the process of writing ch.2 and you know I can upload very fast. ;)) So please, hit me with your reviews if you like it.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Too many times**

 _Suits / Donna x Harvey (darvey)_

 **Chapter 2 - You've seen me bare**

 **Edit: hoping the breakers work this time around, if not, well, remember they should have been there.**

 **Ps. I suggest you listen to Bare by WILDES. Been listening to it on repeat the entire time I was writing this chapter.**

* * *

He'd seen her playful, he'd seen her naked and cry out in ecstasy.

He'd seen her cry and he'd seen her yell.

He'd seen her smile and he'd seen her laugh at his foolishness.

He'd seen her smart and he'd seen her proud of her achievements.

He'd seen her staring and he'd seen her proud of him.

Standing there, alone, with the keys in her hand and feeling as if the temperature of the living room had dropped below zero, she realized it was as if Harvey had never lived there at all. The furniture was still present but the apartment looked just as empty as she felt inside. His suits and most of his clothes were still in the closet. She checked the fridge even though this would give her no indication as to whether he would come back or not. He rarely ate at home.

She came back to his place several times to check whether he'd come home or not. To check if he had moved things around or even picked up some of his stuff. He never did. She searched through his belongings, looking for indications as to where he might have gone. She never found anything. Instead, she had spent about a week crying in his bed instead of spending her nights in the comfort of her own apartment. Robert Zane claimed he didn't know where Harvey said he was going. As much as she admired Robert's loyalty to Harvey, she knew she would have to keep pressing for information. She didn't give a fuck about loyalty anymore. Not after the way he had blindsided her.

The concierge had no information on Harvey's whereabouts.

"So you're telling me he's still renting the apartment?" Donna had asked.

"Yes, Mr. Specter simply said he would be going away for a while. He said something about a change of scenery."

A change of goddamn scenery was the exact sentence she had repeated to Louis.

"The scoundrel, who does he think he is?" Louis had imitated her ironic outburst. Supporting Donna through and through, Louis knew Donna's anger would subside and eventually turn into more tears. He had been right and had hugged her on more than one occasion. Louis didn't know anything more about Robert and Harvey's arrangement. Donna knew her last friend at the firm wasn't lying to her. Alex had been left out of the loop as well. Some of Harvey's clients had been given to Alex, Robert and Samantha. But his most important ones had been given to Louis per Harvey's request. Donna felt Louis's pain one morning when he had seen the list. The legendary feud between the two partners had been over for years and all Louis could say was that if Harvey was here, he would throw that list in his face. Louis wanted his friend back.

But he wasn't coming back. She had tried calling him several times. She had even used different numbers. This had been to no avail as every single call she had made had gone straight to voicemail. Donna couldn't help but wonder what he'd done his phone? Thrown it into the freaking Atlantic Ocean?

Samantha Wheeler was not a villain in this story between her and Harvey. But her inexcusable remarks about Harvey's new venture capital investments in the firm so as to remain an honorary name partner and not have to make use of his 401k had made Donna fume. The COO didn't have the money to stop working unlike her former boss. So punching the future name partner in the face would get her fired for sure.

She knew clients needed reassurance that the former managing partner would still be a part of the firm somehow. She knew Robert, Louis and the rest of the associates would need it as well. Harvey wouldn't be working on cases. But he would always be – if not one phone call, ironically, at least one email away when called in for advice. She knew him staying on as a shareholder had everything to do with her keeping her job. The man was taking a risk in a business he would have no more part in. The name Harvey Specter screamed top law firm and the man who could win even in the direst cases. Clients would get poached by other firms and Harvey, still having an office and being an investor meant that his expertise could still be called upon. He was doing it to protect Louis's future too. Not that the man needed saving. Robert Zane had taken quite the gamble on maintaining Harvey as an honorary partner at the firm. Even she knew Harvey would have never done it – even with Louis. Robert Zane wasn't an idiot. So, why?

She had called Rachel in tears. The brunette wanted nothing but to jump on a plane and take care of her friend but her new life with Mike wouldn't allow her to do that. They had royally fucked up their entrance into Seattle politics, according to Rachel but it was to be expected with Mike's altruistic nature. They had laughed about that at least. Rachel had told Donna she was pressuring Mike into giving her information about Harvey's whereabouts. But the older attorney hadn't even let his former protégée in on his decision to leave.

For weeks and weeks, she thought about why he had done it. Maybe it was his way of keeping her at bay so that she wouldn't try to leave it all behind. Leave it all behind to go where, exactly, she had thought on multiple occasions.

 _I have to live my life, Harvey._ She had been stupid before but she had never been stupid enough to think he would have used her own words against her. Against her, how, precisely, she had mused over.

She had thought about resigning more than once in the span of four weeks and every time, Louis was there to pick up the pieces and remind her how hard she had worked for this. That leaving wouldn't bring Harvey back. No one knew where he was anyway. Marcus hadn't picked up his phone the one time she had called him. But she didn't have it in her to leave a message. She tried calling his mother a couple of times. But the one time his mother had picked up the phone, Donna had hung up. Who was she to call a mother about her grown ass son? A concerned friend whom he had no intention of seeing again? Were they ever friends?

She felt pathetic; pinning after the man who had written a cryptic letter about his feelings for her. She never thought the next man who would leave her without even so much as a formal goodbye would be Harvey Specter. Not even her boyfriends had done that to her. And apparently, she had to be the one to say goodbye to him without even being able to see him. She needed him and he had left her high and dry, emotionally.

About ten weeks later, another Monday came and she had rushed to the 50th floor with determination.

"I resign." Donna barged into Robert's office.

"Goddamn no, you're not!" Robert let out, rising from his chair.

"You're only keeping me here because Harvey pressured you into doing it. How does that make me an asset to the firm?"

"Okay, I've had enough of your outbursts, Donna." Robert's reply didn't feel like a threat. "It's been weeks and you've known me for years. AND you're my daughter's best friend. I know what you're truly capable of. And so far, I'm not too pleased."

"Oh and why is that?" Donna asked, crossing her arms.

"Harvey warned me this would happen...," Robert had begun and added, "He said you wouldn't be able to let this go."

"He said what?" Donna had asked in disbelief.

"Here we go…" Robert sighed, averting his eyes from hers.

"Robert, whatever Harvey said, he damn well knew I wouldn't be able to focus on anything other than trying to figure out why he left me!" She had said it: me. Not the firm. Her. He had left her. It took her a moment to compose herself because of her admission.

This didn't go by unnoticed to Robert but he chose pep talk over trying to comfort her.

"That's the thing Donna. He knows you're an asset to the firm. He's always known," he began, coming up to her. "Despite whatever feelings there might be between the two of you, you cannot let it get in the way of your job here. Besides, I want to keep you here and so does Louis. Hell, our dear financial adviser zeroed in on me the day Harvey left and told me to not even dare think about coming up with a plan to fire you and that he would never give his vote."

"But I used to work for him," she managed to say, her throat feeling dry.

"You haven't worked for him in well over a year. You're your own woman. You work for the firm and I speak for it when I say we need you. Stu Buzzini who heard of Harvey walking out asked me about our COO and whether or not she would be following Harvey. He was trying to poach YOU. Most of Harvey's clients are sticking with the firm even though Harvey's not going to be pleading cases anymore. But you, Donna, people want you. And I need you to work your magic on the firm like yesterday. I got a big potential client: a Connecticut-based accounting firm looking to expand in the city. They're very picky when it comes to how lawyers run their business. I need you to have your head in the game tomorrow night at the Waldorf for the Big Four fundraiser. Cause every lawyer in town's gonna be there." Robert paused for a second, leaving room for Donna to speak.

"Are Deloitte, PwC, EY or KPMG looking into buying it?" Donna asked and added, "I mean they're all based in Europe, why would –"

"They're not. It's just one way for accounting firms to pretend they care about the greater good as in the impoverished and sick people they don't give a damn about 364 days out of a year, masked as an attempt to gather information on new and innovative business strategies," Robert explained.

"And you feel they might audit us over drinks?"

"I _want_ them to audit us over drinks, Donna. And I need you prepared. End of discussion. So get your shit in order. Cause, I'm not letting you go unless you have a good reason for it." Robert put a term to the conversation.

Was it the fact that Robert could smooth talk anyone into doing anything?

"You're not gonna tell me where he is, are you?" Donna touched the glass door handle.

Was it because for the first time in years, people other than her friends had put their trust in her and, had made her feel essential without the safety-net that was Harvey by her side?

"Who says I know where he is?" Robert's question was rhetorical.

She didn't know.

"Donna," she said knowingly and closed the door on her way out feeling as though talking about herself in the third person would bring him back for a moment.

And for a minute there, she was thinking about Harvey and thinking she would be lightyears away from thinking about him at the same time.

* * *

The night of the fundraiser, Robert Zane bore a self-satisfied grin at seeing his team sweet-talking clients. He was keeping an eye on Donna from afar, knowing she was detailing their firm's structure to Cage & Sons' very own CEO; his biggest potential client of the night.

The name Cage was familiar to Donna.

"We're not related to Nicolas Cage if that's what you're asking Ms. Paulsen." David Cage, CEO of Cage & Sons was a very short and slim man.

"Oh, I could tell, Mr. Cage. Are you related to Francis Ford Coppola by any chance?" Donna joked.

"Haha, I like your attitude, Ms. Paulsen, I think I'm going to like the way you handle those lawyers." The CEO laughed. "Let's get you another drink. So I assume that there are reporting conflicts with legal assistants. How do you handle those?"

"Easy, I fire them," Donna elicited more laughter from the CEO. Robert came into view and Donna gave him a sign that he could join them.

"I hope Donna isn't being too honest about the inner workings of our firm." Robert spoke up handing his hand for the CEO to hold.

"Oh, if it isn't the tiger in the flesh!" David Cage shook hands with Robert. "This woman is one hell of a COO. Can I hire her instead of you? What's your poison my dear?

"MaCallan…18," Donna almost stopped herself from saying the number.

"Bartender," David called at the bar, "A glass of MaCallan 18, on the rocks?" He looked at Donna. The woman wearing a turquoise draped Lanvin Jersey dress nodded.

"And keep them coming," David added and turned back to Robert and Donna, "So, see I've been approached by lawyers all night and you sending me your COO was a very good move and I like such moves. Ms. Paulsen gave me a straight answer. You stand firm and serve the best interests of your house by not allowing rules to be bent."

"I don't really understand how this makes us different from the other firms but if that means you're going with us, then I'm all for it," Robert said.

"Well, let me tell you about how not to speak to the people who can audit you. Your own delegation doesn't understand the concept of not bullshitting accountants with details none of us give a rat's ass about. I like the way she seems to be handling your firm and that tells me a lot about how a man like you does the lawyering."

"So that's a yes, then?" Robert's white teeth were showing. The attorney was indeed ready to shake hands on David's words.

"Hey give this old man at least the entire night to make a decision, will you?" David Cage patted Robert on the back.

Donna knew this was a done deal and took a self-congratulatory mouthful of her old friend MacCalan. Then she heard David call an all too familiar first name.

"Oh, Mark, come over here, let me introduce you to someone," David said as the man in question turned around and joined them at the bar. "This wonderful lady here is Ms. –"

"Donna Paulsen." Mark cut the CEO off.

"Mark…" Donna uttered, barely above a whisper.

"Oh you two know each other? Mark, isn't the woman great?"

"She is," Mark let out, unable to take his eyes off the redhead.

"Good, very good." David turned back to Robert, "Apparently she doesn't even have to work her magic on my best accountant, Robert. What do you say we go discuss my firm's next move?"

"I say we have a deal," Robert said, walking away with the CEO and nodding at Mark Meadows but not before giving Donna the smile that meant she was the night's top closer.

"So, wow, Donna, you look amazing," Mark said, timidly.

"Thank you," she said and added, "I knew the name was familiar."

"Cage," he nodded, "Yeah, I think I must have brought my firm's name to you quite a few times when we were together."

"You have but I'm kind of off my game these days," Donna admitted, finished her drink and signed the bartender to pour her another one.

"Well, it sure doesn't seem like you're off your game to me Donna. You just got my boss to agree to sign with your firm, and considering his reputation for hard bargains, I'm sure Harvey's going to be quite the happy camper."

"Haven't you heard?" Donna was troubled by the fact that he didn't seem to know about Harvey retiring.

"What?" Mark had no idea what she was referring to.

"Harvey still holds a big share of the company's equity but he retired. He won't be pleading cases anymore… he left."

"Retired at 48-something… Well, that man must have made quite some millions," Mark said in slight awe.

"More like 46," Donna specified and saw that her glass had been refilled. She took another mouthful.

"Wait a minute! Does this mean you're still working for the firm but not with Harvey?"

"It would appear so," Donna answered, tactfully.

"Good for you, Donna. God, you look beautiful in that dress."

"Thanks, you don't look so bad yourself in that tux," Donna was ready to ask for drink number three.

Small talk led to more small talk and all Donna could think about was how two men could be so different in demonstrating feelings toward her.

"God, I've missed this, it's so easy talking to you." Donna smiled the truest smile she had had in weeks and her eyes seemed to be filled up with positive energy.

"What do you say we go outside and get some fresh air?" Mark showed off his undeniable attractiveness in a tilt of the head.

She never thought about saying no. Not even once.

Outside, Mark started the conversation again. "I could get used to the New York air, you know?"

"If you want constant emitted pollution to kill you slowly, then, by all means, be my guest."

"Is that an invitation?" Mark raised a brow.

"Mark…" Donna began but he cut her off.

"My wife and I are divorced, Donna. I don't have a girlfriend and I'm hopeful you're not seeing anyone right now. And especially not after the conversation we've just had," Mark explained.

She wished Harvey was here, observing them, seeing another man make a semblance of commitment to her. Was it because of the alcohol? Was it out of spite or for her own benefit that she had caught Mark's face and pressed her lips against his? The kiss was soft and sweet. She was feeling something other than pain for a change. And then her eyes shot open and not even seconds had gone by that she broke the kiss.

"I don't know why I did that...," Donna put her hands against his chest.

"Well, I know I want you to do it again," Mark was staring at her lips, showing her how eager he was at the prospect of kissing her again.

"No, I'm sorry, Mark." She looked away.

"I don't understand, Donna," Mark caught her off-guard again as she was about to leave.

"No, you don't understand," she almost cried before adding, "Goodbye, Mark." She left him standing there, outside the Waldorf Astoria with the New York air and a formal goodbye as their only forms of separation.

Harvey never saw her numb to anything and he never saw her defeated.

* * *

Robert Zane had been home for about thirty minutes when he heard someone knock on his door.

"Donna!" Robert said, taken aback by Donna's smudging make-up. He said nothing of it and continued, speaking in a firm voice: "I'm glad you're here. You made us win big tonight! Come inside and let me fix you a drink."

"Where is he, Robert?" Donna stood still.

Robert Zane turned around and let out the sort of breath that had been held for a long time. "I told Harvey he didn't have to do all that he did to make sure you'd stay. I knew you weren't going to stay," Robert said.

"I just want to know where he is," Donna pleaded.

"I'll text you the address," Robert said, vanquished. "and don't worry about not coming to work tomorrow."

"Thank you," Donna nodded and turned on her heel and walked away.

Harvey had never seen her bare because he'd never seen her without _him_.

* * *

 **And that was chapter 2! Thank you so much for all the reviews. I don't think I ever got so many reviews in my entire life for one chapter and especially not for the first one. I hope you liked chapter 2. Hit that review button again if you want to read chapter 3 soon... let's say tomorrow? xD**

 **I'm willing to get no sleep for you guys, how cool is that? (Angry fangirls' collective reply: not cool your story sucks now bc you haven't been sleeping properly!)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Too Many Times**

 _Suits / Donna x Harvey (darvey)_

 **Chapter 3 – It'll mean nothing without you**

 **I suggest you give this song a try as well. ;) This one is dedicated to my human computer (aka beta) ashadesofblue.**

* * *

 _I'm on fire, can you see me burning?_ _  
_ _I am reckless for your love_ _  
_ _I'm more than a shadow dancing free_ _  
_ _I know that you see me more clearly_ _  
_ _But it'll mean nothing, it'll mean nothing_ _  
_ _It'll mean nothing without you_

 _Say it to me now_ _  
_ _Honey if you can, illuminate_

 _-Illuminate by WILDES_

"Mom!" Harvey called after his mother, sipping coffee against the island countertop of his mother's kitchen. "You can't accept this guy's deal."

"And why shouldn't I? You don't know anything about art deals and this isn't Christie's Auctions for Pete's sake!" His mother came back to the kitchen.

"Well, just because we're in Boston doesn't mean I can't call them…," Harvey shrugged, the spoonful of peanut butter he ate saturating his stomach.

"This is stupid, Harvey. You're just focusing on me because you're bored. You need to do something else besides helping out the Little League coach."

"I'm not bored, Mom. I'm fixing the house I bought. I love playing baseball with Marcus and Katie's kids. And the kids at school are nice. And you know Fred and I go way back. It's a nice distraction," Harvey stated and added, "It's been nice to focus on something other than actual work."

"Then why do you keep criticizing that deal? I'm going to make $20,000 for a painting I don't even like to begin with." Lily sipped on her hot coffee.

"I'm a closer, Mom. I've been making deals since I could speak." Harvey finished his coffee and added, staring at the kitchen tiles, "and you know, just because I can't erase thirteen years of my life in the blink of an eye doesn't mean–"

"I remember you graduating Harvard Law at 27 and you're 46, so…" Lily pondered.

"Forget it, I'm fine, Mom, and I'm happy to be here." Harvey hoped the conversation was over. Thinking about her, intruding on his words, made him feel as if he were back in New York, using his suit as a shield. Trading them for t-shirts and pairs of jeans had made him feel more at ease with himself; and anew.

"Listen, Harvey. You've been here, what? A little over three months, now?" Her voice was soft.

Harvey tilted his head back and nodded in agreement.

"Why don't you just start dating? Maybe... I mean, I'm happy to have you back in my life, Harvey. But Marcus has Katie and the kids, I have Bobby and you, you're just– "

"Stop right there, Mom." Harvey's hands clenched, forming white-knuckled weapons. Missing his punching ball. Missing. Her. Missing. Hating himself for cutting her off one too many times. Missing them. She was his mother; she was trying to help him. But he didn't want it. He started yelling back at her: "You have no right to–"

"It's because you don't talk to ME, Harvey!" Lily practically shouted, out of breath. "I know something must have happened for you to quit your job like you did," Lily began before he cut her off.

"I retired, there's a difference," Harvey retorted, through gritted teeth.

"No one, you hear me, no one retires at 46. No one rich enough retires at your age without a good reason!" Lily took a deep breath and continued her ministrations to her closed off son. "Fine, you seem to be okay with not being a full-time lawyer. And whatever you do on the side, still helping out your firm in some ways is your business. But you've been having drinks with Marcus and Bobby at least three times a week. And they're saying they're afraid they might turn into alcoholics because of you…"

"Mom, we don't take more than two, maybe three once in a while," Harvey rolled his eyes, feeling more relaxed. He felt a tingling sensation when he let his fists go loose.

"I don't care whether they were joking over it or not. All I'm seeing now is my son who seems to have isolated himself–" Lily said in a low voice. Her eyes were filling with tears and her lower lip trembled.

"How the hell have I isolated myself?" Harvey quirked an eyebrow. "I spend most of my time with you guys," he countered, louder than his mother's deduction because it held up all too much for him.

"You're feeling lonely, Harvey."

"I have to go." Tears formed in his eyes. Still trying to look brave, he realized it was the first time he and his Mom had had such an intense discussion over his decision to leave the firm. He didn't want to have it.

"Is this about that other woman Paula mentioned? What did she ever do to you?" Lily walked after Harvey before he could open the front door.

Harvey had never told his mother about Donna. His entire being wanted to tell his mother about his partner of thirteen years. But he couldn't. It would mean nothing without her there anyway.

He swallowed and said: "Nothing, Mom." He walked back to his mother and gave her a kiss on the cheek before he left and closed the door with the softest of bang.

* * *

502 Woburn St,

Lexington, Mass.

Back to his Mom's place.

Of all places.

Donna wasn't bitter. She was furious. He hadn't gone backpacking across Europe. He hadn't even left the East Coast. The one hour flight and the Uber ride to Lexington had been the easy part. Only a one hour flight, a four hour train ride and a five hour drive away from the City. He had run back home. That wasn't running away. That was getting back to the comfort of something – a home – once familiar to him.

It was a beautiful and quite expensive house given the location. The light grey-painted house looked cut out from Architectural Digest magazine; the cedar door was as wide as it was tall. The windows were small with white-colored beams to break them into rectangles. Matching beds of hydrangeas were on each side of the front porch.

Donna couldn't believe she was about to knock on Lily Specter's door. She had always been a supporter of Harvey's father. She didn't know what to expect and who would answer the door. Donna wasn't furious anymore. She didn't feel like she was part of his world. She wanted to run away. Self-estrangement and psychological stress over something completely unknown to her. Even more so than simply losing him: she would be trespassing. She had lost her sense of self at work because of him being gone. Knocking on the door brought an unspeakable mixture of guilt, anxiety and self-doubt. She was the one who had said she hadn't felt anything. It was around 3PM when Donna saw Lily Specter – a woman she had only seen pictures of, pictures her ex-husband almost certainly always kept on him, open the tallest door she had ever seen. It wasn't tall. She just felt small, she realized, unable to measure up in those Jimmy Choo pumps.

"Hello," Lily greeted the redhead.

Voice shaking, she said: "H…hi." Donna couldn't muster up the courage to ask where Harvey was. It was beyond her.

"May, I help you?" Lily eyed the redhead from head to toe.

"I'm sorry, I think I made a mistake coming here," Donna was ready to run anywhere but into that house.

"You think or you know?" Lily inquired after the woman who was about to walk away.

It made Donna stop dead on her track. "What are you–?" she began before the older woman who didn't look any year beyond 65 cut her off.

"Inferring? Nothing." She paused and gave Donna no time to reply. "You're her, aren't you?"

Donna didn't budge and noticed how the woman seemed confused about the stance she should go with. Staring her down one minute and feeling as if a whole new world had opened up to her the next.

Donna was speechless. She rarely was but she needed to pour her heart out and Lily Specter wasn't supposed to be the recipient of that.

"He's not here," the woman eventually said.

"I was told he lives here." The worried look on Donna's face didn't escape Lily.

"I mean, he has his own place not too far from here," Lily explained and added, "I can take you there if you want."

"No," Donna said, louder than she had intended and apologized, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to sound like that. I just need to do this alone if you don't mind."

Lily eyed the woman again with a pensive expression on her face. "Well, since you don't want me to drive you there, you're in for a 30 minute walk and I'm doubtful you will make it there in those shoes. Did you bring a pair that doesn't include high heels?"

Donna's eyes shot wide open. She was thinking back to last night when Robert Zane had sent her that text. She had gone back to his apartment, like she had done for the better part of fourteen weeks. She had booked her flight there, on her phone, and hadn't packed anything for the trip. It had never even crossed her mind. A Prada bag, a spare dress she had left at his, the same power pumps she'd been wearing the night before and a double breasted Givenchy trench coat.

"What's your size?" Lily sighed.

"9.5." Donna glanced at her feet, mechanically.

"I wear a 9 myself." She thought it over for a second before adding, "I'll give you one of Bobby's pair of sneakers, they should fit. Unless you want to call a cab or an Uber?"

"No, I'll walk," Donna was unsure of what she was getting herself into even though she sounded determined.

The woman noticed Donna wasn't following her and could tell she was lost in thought.

"Are you gonna just stand there? Come on in!"

Donna breathed in and immediately felt like an intruder, invading Harvey's first dysfunctional home.

The interior was just as beautiful as the exterior. Lily Specter had great taste.

"There you go, you can sit on the couch if you want." Lily handed Donna a pair of white Stan Smiths.

Donna walked to the adjacent living room and sat on the couch to put the shoes on.

"He lives near Lower Vine Brook. It's the last house at the corner of Utica St and Dunham, there's a beautiful natural pine tree hedge. You can't miss it. It's also the only rustic-like wooden house in the area."

Donna was done putting the sneakers on and was heading to the open front door when she stopped at the threshold debating on how to close that presumably out-of-this-world interaction.

"I don't even know your name." The older woman beat her to it.

Donna turned around and said, looking down: "Mrs. Specter…" She paused to extend her hand for Lily to shake. She knew words weren't going to fail her now and so she went on, "I'm sorry. My name is Donna. Donna Paulsen. And I've been working with your son for thirteen years."

* * *

Harvey had been at war with the wooden structure of the house and in a war against time. He had more time on his hands than he could count. Whoever said building things yourself and fixing up your own home makes you a man was a fucking fool. Marcus had helped him and left around 3:00 PM because it was his day to pick up the kids from school and he was already late. Today had been about working on fixing the frame of the picture window.

It wasn't long ago that the windows had no glass in them. They didn't seem rectangular at first but he had been straightened them up by hammering the shit out of those. The country garden might have seemed unkempt at first, but with Katie's help, nature was slowly but surely coming back to where it belonged. There weren't flowers yet but the mown grass and aligned pine trees gave the view from the house more perspective. Something he missed from home. Something he missed in New York City. He loved the fact that he couldn't tower the trees because they were dominating him instead. Nothing could be overlooked anymore. What mattered was what was in front of him. And gaining a few pounds of muscle in the process was an added bonus. Working non-stop for years however had made him realize time off was precious. But he was a workaholic. He never wanted to stop working on the damn house; daylight would always fade and no work could be done outside the house during night time.

He already had a strained connection to this house. Admiring the piece of work in front of him, hands on his hips, he mumbled something about it not being that much of a challenge in the end.

"Goodbye?"

He dropped his hammer. Harvey stood motionless.

"Goodbye," she repeated, her voice softer the second time.

He turned around eventually and saw her. The object of his affection was standing only a few feet away from him, illuminating his surroundings briefly as if he were in a dream-like state.

She wasn't supposed to be here. He panicked and repeated thoughts that should never be spoken without an explanation, "You're not supposed to be here." Harvey regretted the prose instantly.

"And you don't get to decide where I go or what I do!" She walked up to him like a fury. "And you certainly don't get to tell me when I'm supposed to be done talking."

She was breathing heavily. He was staring at the living, breathing form in front of him. Harvey Specter was at a loss for words anyway. Only the rhythm of his heartbeat or the way his eyes moved could communicate how he felt. The universe around him seemed to explode with an unstoppable blast.

He had woken up and remembered that he had been living in a house divided. She had woken up and remembered that the man in front of her was her link to life.

She had felt an incredible rush: seeing him looking so good and so different. The universe around her seemed to begin and end with him.

"Are you going to say anything?" Donna asked a few seconds later oblivious to what she would be capable of saying to him.

 _How long are you staying?_ "When are you leaving?" Incapable of blinking, his eyes were almost red with fear. Fear that she might disappear.

She could run forever but she then remembered it wasn't an option.

 _Am I here to say goodbye?_ "I don't have a return flight," she admitted.

"Do you have any baggage?" He felt like his own suitcase of a head weighed a ton.

"Just this handbag and what I'm wearing, except for the Stans, those are Bobby's." She felt as if she were challenging him some more.

"Of course you went to my mother's house," Harvey shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck and asked: "Did you meet her?"

"How could I have gone anywhere else considering it was you who told Robert to contact you there…" Donna explained, bewildered.

"What did you say to her?" Harvey took her handbag from her hand.

"Not much. I introduced myself, she gave me your address and a pair of shoes," Donna covered what she thought were the shortest basics of all time.

He searched her eyes. "All in that order?"

He was playing her again.

"More or less." She glanced downwards to prevent his penetrating stare to dig up more than necessary.

He walked away from her, bag in hand, to open the door

"Are you coming in?" He sounded more determined than before.

Glancing back at him, she stated: "You're damn right, I am." While, there she would play the odds.

He went to drop her bag someplace as she took a moment to get accustomed to the interior.

"What are we doing here?" She used a defiant chin thrust.

"Talking about you seeing my mother and only getting an outbound flight," Harvey assessed the parquet floor beneath him, eyes and feet focused on it.

"We've been talking like nothing's happened."

"So you're saying everything's happened, Donna?" It was the first time he'd used her name since their pathetic excuse of a reunion. She couldn't believe how much she had missed this.

"Could you stop, already?" She noticed him stare at her coat.

"I did, I wrote you a letter, remember?" He locked eyes with her again.

He wasn't looking at her the way she had expected him to. She knew everything about him and especially the way he used to look at her. And he'd been analyzing her as if he didn't know her. "Harvey, why can't you just open up?" She threw her arms up in the air so as to make it a point that this was getting old.

 _It'll mean nothing without you._ Harvey grabbed her arms mid-air, silencing any further questioning on the spot.

She didn't see it coming. She couldn't have. She should have. She was reckless for him. He pulled her against him until her body aligned fully against his, pushed her up against the nearest wall and crashed his lips down on hers.

What would Harvey do if he wasn't a lawyer anymore? He would do just that.

* * *

 **Hope you had a good read! I'll try to find time to answer each and everyone of you for your wonderful reviews soon, I promise. Guests, thanks so much for reviewing too! It's your reviews that keep me going. So thank you so so much. Again, if you like, hit that review button!**

 **Ps.** **Who is cryptic Guest ":)"? I'm intrigued.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Too many times**

 _Suits / Donna x Harvey (darvey)_

 **Chapter 4 – I'll know not to expect**

 _When I see you again_ _  
_ _I'll know not to expect_ _  
_ _Stay one step away_ _  
_ _We will have to wait_

 _-The XX – Sunset_

"Harvey, why can't you just open up?" She threw her arms up in the air so as to make it a point that this was getting old.

 _It'll mean nothing without you._ Harvey grabbed her arms mid-air, silencing any further questioning on the spot.

She didn't see it coming. She couldn't have. She should have. She was reckless for him. He pulled her against him until her body aligned fully against his, pushed her up against the nearest wall and crashed his lips down on hers.

He had backed himself into a corner. He had no right. But he couldn't stop himself.

But he had cornered her at the same time. She couldn't get away. She wasn't sure she wanted to.

Her heart skipped a beat when she felt his lips on hers. He pressed his tongue to the seam of her lips, making everything come undone. Her mouth never had to relent to his. He had delved right in, sucking on her lips whenever he could. Every push of his tongue against hers made her weak in the knees. Her only support being the way he was pressed up against her. Her arms couldn't reach up and tangle around his neck. She was stuck. The feel of his tongue establishing dominance over hers didn't surprise her. She wasn't stunned enough not to realize she was inviting it. Moaning in the contact of body heat against her own, her mouth surrendered to his and went into autopilot. Parting her lips to breathe in some air, she drew back into his lips delaying the afterthought for as long as she could.

He lingered in the taste of her. The exertion had left him breathless. It was too much. And all too soon. But he was out of control. Her perfume, how her limp body began to tremble uncontrollably against his were urging him to pull away before it went too far. Where, he didn't know. But he couldn't force this on her. The way his heart fluttered inside his chest told him to keep going but his lungs were saying otherwise. No thoughts but that of her were going through his mind. Nothing could have dragged him away from her. Until he had to catch his own breath and pull away, slowly. His parted lips trailed against her neck and settled in the crook. The way he was panting against her skin; cooling himself down and, allowing himself to unclench his hands from her arms and letting the feel of her skin go loose. It had her realize she didn't want him to let go.

Breathing heavily herself, she nuzzled his hair, the smell of him invading her nostrils.

He felt like he was one step ahead; stay one step away.

"I'm sorry," he said softly.

She didn't want to say anything. Those three words would have been enough to set her off hadn't her entire being felt positively whole for the first time in months.

"I had no right," he added.

He should have stopped at 'I'm sorry'.

"You don't have the right to kiss me like this after leaving like that," she said and watched him take one step back.

He left the comfort of her skin even though she hadn't pushed him away.

Even though her eyes' tears had long run out, her body cried at the loss of him.

"I had to get away from the firm."

He was rationalizing. And he knew that she knew he was.

"Not the firm, Harvey; me, you left _me_ ," she shouted, as if trying to reason with him.

"I left _me_ … myself… lost in you, too goddamn lost in you," he yelled at her, his keen eyes – darkened from the energy he had poured into her, told her just exactly how much he needed her.

"I don't – I don't know what to say." She searched his eyes to implore him to clarify.

But he didn't follow through.

"I'll know not to expect anything but please don't go." His words were such a soft plea that she didn't have it in her to say no. But she had so much more to say.

"You should have come and talked to me about it, Harvey." She knew how he felt. She knew too much. But he couldn't see through her. If he always trusted her judgment, then he wouldn't have to kiss away his mistake, while kissing away his need for her.

He didn't know her. And it hurt her more than anything else in the world.

He caught her off guard one more time by tentatively putting a hand to her face. She instinctively put her own hand on his. It was a trial of his own making, she realized and they were the two parties involved: plaintiff versus defendant. In _Donna Paulsen v. Harvey Specter_ , Donna felt she had brought an action against him in which they would never get to settle. Her mind had gone haywire but the softness of his touch had remained, keeping her grounded in the feeling that her kiss was miles away from his desperate one. But their moment went away the second she heard the ringtone of a buzzing phone. He closed his eyes briefly, sighed and pulled away again. Her eyes darted open for two different realizations: he had been meaning to say something and he had a phone.

"You got a phone?" It wasn't a question.

"Yes," he admitted. It made her feel like a shadow; as if she weren't part of his life anymore.

"I need to use the bathroom." Her expression was blank as if feigning nothing. The pretext worked on its own accord.

"Donna…" He tilted his head to the side the way he did every time he knew he had done something wrong.

"Answer that call, I'll find that goddamn toilet seat myself." Her words were final for she had darted out of his view in a matter of seconds.

He took it out of his pocket and looked at the caller's identity. It made him feel like a travesty of the man he used to be for she didn't even want to listen in on his private conversations anymore. What had he done, flooding her with so much even though nothing was resolved between them?

She eventually found the bathroom, went right in and locked the door behind her as quickly as possible. A breath got stuck in her throat as she dropped down on the toilet seat. She surrendered to her least comedic side as she unleashed the tears she had been holding deep inside her. They had always been too close; too close to live separately for thirteen years. Even when they were seeing other people, they were each other's reminders of another life. How could someone feel so strongly about someone else, and cut them out of their life like this? He had made no pretense to being nothing but a self-serving son of a bitch. _I need to know what it feels like not to mind if you do_ live your life outside the confines of mine, she thought. He sure as hell had been living his life while she, had spent most of hers thinking about him for months. She was angry. Another thought and another kind of emotion overwhelmed her. Her internal stop tap had turned off the tears. Turmoil set in instead.

She had only been given a small glimpse into Harvey's new life: a rustic house, a hammer, different clothes, and three or more days of shaving neglect her senses forbid her to object to. The way his stubble had grazed against her skin and irritating it slightly felt like all kinds of in the raw; unrefined and naked. Thoughts and feelings couldn't go hand in hand in this matter. And the fact that she had not been a part of his life put her into a new perspective. She didn't think he was seeing someone else, but he could be. What was he doing besides doing repairs on a decades-old house? Who was he now? Was he still the man she admired? Was she in love with him? The idea of him? The idea of _being_ with him? Or the illusion of a power couple, serving her own need for recognition. It was disillusionment speaking, not her. She felt as if she hadn't been enough for him to stay and fight for her. She knew she could answer this question simply but thirteen years is also the most comforting way to not be able to get over someone. She wasn't sure she wanted to fight it and dreaded the moment she would flee instead. He had no right looking at her this way now. And yet she wanted nothing more.

She took some toilet paper, sniffled gently lest he should find out that she had been crying more than necessary over him. She stood up and checked her red eyes in the mirror above the sink. He would notice but she wouldn't let it get to her.

Harvey was on the phone in the living room. His back looked more defined and developed as if he had taken up boxing full time and not just as a means to let off steam and avoid his problems three times a week. Was he even doing that anymore? She knew his past schedules. She had made his calendar for years after all.

He heard her walk back into the room, turned around and hurried to get off the phone.

"Yes, I'll be on the lookout. Thank you for letting me know." He hung up with a goodbye. "Hey", he then added, his voice having a soothing effect on her.

"Hey," she said back just as calmly. She didn't ask who it was. She cared of course but nighttime was beginning to set in and she didn't know how everything between them would end. She wasn't sure she even knew what kind of way out she desired.

"It was animal control. Town members have been reporting an injured deer in the area," he began and continued, "and since my house is the closest to the park, they said they wouldn't be surprised if it had come to these parts for shelter."

"A deer?" She was stunned by the news and the improbable caller's ID.

Her reaction made him smile. At least their conversation seemed more familiar than their earlier one.

"Stop doing that." She'd almost scolded him.

"What? Think about the fact that you should get out of New York more often?" he shrugged.

"What are you going to do?" The front door was still open and she noticed how the weather had turned a bit chilly.

"I have to contact them if I see it. We're not supposed to approach it. It could become dangerous," he said. He had said 'we'. Pronouns had always mattered between them; but they did even more now, she thought. How was she involved in all of this?

"Are you going to go look for it now?" she asked, content in the fact that she didn't have to ask him about what was going to happen next.

"Do you want me to?" It was as if he were her whether she wanted him to leave her some space or not. At least, that's how she understood it.

"I think animal control wants you to," she said, as if pretending to use her very own and emblematic Donna sense.

He took a moment to observe her before walking towards the entrance. He took a vintage leather bomber jacket with a shearling collar off the wooden coat rack that near the door – this alone had her wonder into what kind of fiction she had set in. "Stay here, I'll call you," he commanded, walking out the door quickly and closing it behind him.

"Harvey, you don't even know your own phone number let alone mine," she shouted after him and added, "Fine, just leave me… again!"

* * *

He walked around Lower Vine Brook for the better part of two hours, searching every nook and cranny of the urban forest. Searching for what? The deer that had been nowhere in sight? But his mind was also elsewhere, hence his inability to focus on anything. His semblance of an ultimatum had him worried though. That she would order an Uber and get the hell out of his newfound world. He needed to get away from her and clear his head. He didn't want to but he had developed this new habit towards her: thinking about her need to process. Especially so given what had happened. What he'd done. He couldn't get the sight of her out of his mind; unwilling to surrender and yet, powerless enough to accept his mouth and body all over her. His world had come back into full view; with questions nonetheless. How had she been fairing without him professionally? He couldn't think she hadn't been anything but great. She was the woman he admired. She was the one who made him feel powerful – with her sideway glances or gazes, the determined strut she would use to walk in and out of their office. It never was just his.

He had thought a lot about how she probably didn't need him as much as he needed her. It felt like a challenge but it wasn't the reason why he'd left. They were never really in sync to begin with. Sometimes she needed more from him and he wasn't capable of giving it to her. But he had always needed more from her. Being her boss meant that he couldn't put her in this position for the sake of her credibility towards everyone else at the firm. He was no idiot; he would have given her the world for the way he'd felt inside her so long ago. But he never trusted himself enough to give them a chance outside of work. Just as far as he had kept his mother at bay, he had kept Donna close. But not close enough to screw it up. He'd brought his own misery onto her.

His time alone had allowed him to analyze over thirteen years of a life together in separation. He would always find a way to erect a glass window between them; one from which they could see each other, still remain close without being able to touch. Words would come out but words had always been his Roman warfare-like testudo formation. Shields on the front and top of him; he recalled himself accusing her of stabbing him in the back. All she had ever done, really, was flank him on several occasions, but he knew the former had never happened. Today, he was counting on that loyalty again. That she would stay, for now. He thought his heart stopped the day he left but he realized it stopped two hours ago as if he were in Heaven and Hell, all at once – all over again.

Like that damn deer, he'd been able to adapt to a new habitat. Wounded and seeking shelter. Harvey Specter was definitely not the kind of man that could be easily subdued. He knew Donna was the same. The same instinctual energy emanated from her; her guts would always tell her when to fight and when to flee. He always had the faintest hope she would look for him. He didn't think today would've come this soon. But he was afraid she would not run to him someday. He was the one who had left but he had always been the one running back to her after all.

* * *

Donna had quite the time on her hands. He'd been gone for two hours. It had taken her less than a minute to decide not to just leave and go to a hotel, freshen up and come back in the morning to force herself into saying goodbye to him. But it had taken her over half an hour to leave the living room and explore his new habitat. The one-story house consisted of a living room and a beautiful foyer with a kitchen as part of the open floor, a bathroom and one bedroom she thought looked austere. There was a very lovely view of Lower Vine Brook however from the window. She could see a small path leading into a clearing. There seemed to be so much more to explore.

There were no curtains. It felt off compared to the other main room. There were no pictures, and his bed was a lot smaller than the one in his apartment. On the wall opposite his bed, he had hung a beautiful painting of what seemed like two yellow suns – a big one and a smaller one – surrounded by a blue sky. She figured it was his mother's.

She went to his kitchen – which looked clean enough – to get a glass of water. She couldn't help herself and looked into his fridge like she had back in New York. Six-packs of Bud, a bottle of milk, ketchup, butter, grated cheese and half-emptied Tupperware containers. Either his mother brought him food, or he was saving take-out for later. He did have the Kitchen essentials though: flour, vegetable oil and extra virgin olive oil, vinegar, salt, pepper, Worcestershire Sauce, and glass pasta and rice jars. He was eating like a healthy twelve year old, she thought. She knew he could eat healthy but it didn't seem like he was. Not that he needed too. He was _more_ than in perfect shape. One question popped into her head though. Where was the scotch? Considering everything, it troubled her more than she thought it would.

She took a turn about the garden before daylight disappeared completely, thinking the air would do her some good. Besides Central Park or Grammercy Park, he'd never been so close to nature since he'd left his parents' house. He had made something of this garden for sure. It looked beautiful – albeit raw, the different rows of pine trees on the front shielding him from the street and surrounding houses. She walked around the house and took a better look at the Lebanon cedar standing proud and tall above his dwelling. A big detail she might not have missed hadn't she been terrorized at meeting with him face to face earlier. The majestic tree was shielded from view by the two rows of pine tree connected in a rectangular fashion. Alone and different.

She didn't have time to explore anything more for she heard her phone ring. Unknown caller. She picked up, feeling butterflies in her stomach. The kind of feeling she hadn't had in a long time for him. Of course it was him.

"Hello," she said.

"I know how to enter a number into a new phone," he replied. And somehow it made her happy even though he hadn't called her.

"If you got lost in those woods, I'm not going there and look for you," Donna snapped.

"It's a park, Donna."

She could tell he was rolling his eyes on the other end of the phone.

"Isn't there a law against people bullshitting you into thinking they're looking for a deer?"

"Parks and recreations laws aren't really my specialty… Are you still here?"

"Yes." She didn't think she had to say more. The tone she used sounded affirmative enough.

"I'm on a way home; I'll stop by the grocery store. Do you need anything?"

That was unexpected to say the least, she thought.

"How long do you think I'm staying, Harvey?" she asked, equivocally.

He sighed. "Isn't it up to you?

The way they seemed unable to communicate unnerved her. She was angry at herself too for not being flat-out straight with him. But it definitely wasn't something she would be able to do over the phone. She understood now why he'd never called her – and all the non-answers she would have gotten.

"Get me a toothbrush, a hairbrush, and find me a pair of jeans, size 8."

"It's a small grocery store, Donna, not a freaking Target," he explained.

"And when have you ever seen me buy clothes at Target?" The very sharp question made her feel good about herself somehow even though she had nothing against cheap clothes. She knew all too well what not having the means to buy designer clothes felt like.

"I'll figure something out," he said, and added, seconds later, "Donna?"

"What?" she asked, instinctively.

"I… Nevermind."

And with that he hung up.

* * *

"Mom?" Harvey called out when he entered her house.

"Harvey? Wh-what are you doing here?" She walked down the stairs, hurriedly.

"I just got back from the store and I need a favor."

"Anything," she said – looking a little too concerned for his taste.

He tilted his head to the side and flattened his lips. "I'm fine if that's what you're wondering about."

"Okay." She decided against venturing further into her son's psyche.

"Do you have a pair of jeans or pants in size 8?"

"I think I do. I'll be right back." She went back up the stairs.

"Thanks."

Harvey paced up and down around the living room for a moment and eventually settled his gaze on the chest of drawers. He had vowed himself not to open the lower drawer. He had put his smartphone away in there. Missed calls and texts he wanted to steer clear off. But she was here now and all he could do was set aside his restrain. He wanted to know. He needed to know. He rushed to the chest of drawers, opened the lower one and took his phone.

Too many missed calls and texts; many more from her. Countless voicemails he wasn't ready to hear – he didn't think he would be able to listen to her voice if she had left one. He went through his text message app instead.

 _Where are you, Harvey? I'm at yours, please come home…_

 _You can't leave the firm! That is no way to say goodbye to your friends._

 _I thought we were a family. How could you do this to us?_

 _Harvey… Are you in love with me? What have I done wrong?_

 _I don't know where you are. Is it because of what I said about the kiss?_

 _How could you do this to me? You think you leaving will make me happy? REALLY?_

 _Well, you know what? I never thought you would make that decision by_

 _Maybe I'm better off without you yourself. Without letting me know first._

 _after the stunt you just pulled._

 _13 years and you're quitting?_

 _Just like this?_

He'd kept on reading no matter how painful it was. His hand was shaking as if he were having a panic attack again, making her words harder to read. He realized she had never been scared of losing him without there being an outside force pulling him away from her; such as him risking to go to prison for Mike, giving himself up. But he had left her. He hadn't allowed himself to feel guilty until now.

"Harvey?" Lily called him.

Harvey hid the phone as if he's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"I was just –" he said but she stopped him from saying anything more.

"I found a pair. I hope they'll fit and that she won't think them too old-fashioned, I know women don't wear trousers that sit higher on the body these days," she said, giving him the denim trousers.

"Nah, it'll be fine, Mom. Those are trendy again. Besides, she's not like that."

"I know, I just want it to be perfect for her… for you," Lily stumbled on her words.

"It is," he stressed, trying to reassure her.

Harvey was about to leave when Lily hurried after him and hugged him from behind, resting her head against his back.

"I love you, son." It was just the way his dad used to say.

"You too," he chuckled before adding, "Thanks for not bringing up the elephant in the room by the way."

* * *

He came home around 8, took a quick look around the living room and saw her seated on his couch, legs crossed – her exposed skin, one of the ways she would use to flirt with him, now an enhanced trigger to his desire.

"Stop ogling, nothing you've never seen before." She straightened her dress as she rose up. "Did you get the pants?"

"Yeah." He extended her the pair in question. "you can change in my room and grab a T-shirt from one of the drawers."

"Toothbrush?" she asked. He searched through the bag and gave her the item. It made him think she was trying to erase the taste of him. It pained him to think he had become the type of guy who cared about nonsensical metaphors.

Noticing his thoughtful look, she said: "Thanks, might come in handy with the germs you're about to feed me with." How his eyes turned brighter, the unidentifiable emotions that seemed to be coursing through him and their sudden proximity caught her off-guard. She might have gulped before disappearing into his bedroom.

He breathed in intensely and went to drop the grocery bag in the kitchen.

"I'm sorry it took me this long." Loud enough for her to hear while she was unpacking the groceries.

"Oh, I've had quite some time on my hands," she said, all the way from inside the room. "On my phone, thank God for Internet service in your humble abode," she mocked and to which he rolled his eyes. "I googled deer. Do you know that deer symbolizes the gentle, enticing lure of new adventures?"

"Are you reading your phone right now instead of getting ready?" he asked, pissed off at her delaying the inevitable awkward dinner that was looming.

"Of course, I am. I mean… the guy I'm supposed to have a serious talk with goes after a freaking deer! I don't think this has ever happened to me so what better way to process than browse for information?"

Harvey figured he would make a salad with some ham on the side – if making it as painful for him as possible meant making dinner short, than a salad it would be. He continued listening to her while putting the greens in a big bowl. He would dress it with virgin olive oil and balsamic vinegar; her favorite.

She wouldn't let him down easy. "Okay, so, if a deer should come into someone's life, they should look for new perceptions and degrees of perceptions to grow and expand for as long as the next five years."

Harvey wasn't really half-listening when he began slicing tomatoes.

"Oh and just because we're about to have another conversation, maybe I'd like for you to find that deer at some point because, APPARENTLY, it might call for you to trust your instincts and yourself."

"So you're saying we should hold off on the talking?" He heard her open the door.

He turned around and saw her closing the button of her jeans. She didn't notice him _ogling_ her this time though.

"I'm saying…" She adjusted the Miles Davis shirt she'd picked. "I'm..."

She stopped herself from finishing her sentence when she saw that he had set the table on the small island countertop which stood a couple of feet away from the couch. He could have sworn she had bitten her lip when she saw the bowl of salad.

"I hope you're not too hungry," he tentatively joked.

She pressed her lips together instead of replying and went to sit on the stool opposite him.

She watched him serve the salad on the side of her plate. At least she thought she was. His arms were distracting her in all the wrong places – calling her back to three hours ago when he had pressed her up against that wall and kissed her as if his own life depended on it.

They ate in silence, giving each other awkward glances here and there. The dressing was so good – it was her recipe and he knew the proper dosage. He had eaten a lot faster than her. She took a gamble she'd promised herself she wouldn't take. She took a chance on small talk.

"You're still hungry, are you?"

"I'll live if it means you don't die because of germs." He made fun of her.

"Where's the booze by the way?" she asked, once she was done with her food.

"I have some…" he began but she cut him off.

"Yeah, beer, I know." She cocked her head. Why wasn't he surprised she had gone looking through his things?

"Well, then I can get you…" His face didn't look as reproachful when her next words had to do with his favorite scotch.

Her piercing brown eyes questioned him from under furrowed brows: "Where's the MaCallan?"

"I don't drink that anymore."

"Is it because of me?" She pressed him for answers.

"I thought we weren't supposed to have that conversation until after I catch that deer?"

"You said you weren't supposed to even approach the damn animal?"

"Animal control never told me to go look for it!"

"I goddamn know, Harvey" She stared at her plate.

He got off the stool and went to his room in a haste. But he hadn't closed the door. She turned around and stared at his door, expectantly.

She knew the longer she would stare, the longer the wait. What took less than minute had felt like eternity. He came out of his room with a pillow and a blanket and said walking towards the couch: "You can sleep in my bed tonight."

He had left her no choice. He made his improvised bed and stood upright, hands on his hips as if waiting for her to say something.

She got off the stool and walked up to him. "You're right. We'll talk in the morning." She was about to go when she took a step back and raised on her toe slightly to kiss his cheek, lingering just enough to feel him one last time, feeling his facial hair graze the corner of her lips slightly and not enough for him to try anything else.

* * *

Whoever said going to bed at 9:30 PM was a good idea? On a Waxing Gibbous Moon at that? Sunlight hitting the moon, reflecting off and then hitting Harvey Specter's goddamn garden. Light killing all the sleep she could get because of a damn window with no blinds or curtains? Donna thought she would never get any sleep. She had turned off her phone almost an hour ago, sent Rachel a text telling her she'd found him and their small exchange had brought a little smile to her face. But sleep was nowhere on the horizon. She had tried everything. Tossing and turning. But his pillow smelled of him and even though he was only one door away, she felt like she was back in his NYC apartment, crying herself to sleep on his bed. She got up and went to stare out the window. The peaceful garden she had ventured into earlier looked even more peaceful at night. She understood why Harvey would enjoy the view. His bedroom looked less stern in this light. As if he could, at least in the early days of each month, get a glimpse of something else. Something lighter – something he needed such as the pathway to that clearing, a street lit in the dark – close to the city light he had made his own, towering over it for years.

She suppressed a scream when she saw it walk by her on the other side of the window.

Donna hurried to the living room and went to wake Harvey up. He wasn't asleep either and told her to hush holding his index finger in front of his mouth.

"Harvey look," she whispered, "I saw it!"

"Yeah, I just saw it too." He gestured for her to join him by the window.

"Come on, look." He took in the view of how her legs looked whiter in this light. He allowed himself a few seconds to process the fact that she was only wearing his T-shirt and panties.

"I have to call animal control." He averted his eyes as he realized she knew he had been staring. She had kind of done the same if she were being honest with herself.

"At 10:30PM? Don't." Still staring, she added: "Look it's going to the cedar tree."

"I don't think it's limping," Harvey said, looking for signs of wounds even though he knew it would still be difficult in this kind of light.

"Look how beautiful it is." She was mesmerized by the animal.

Harvey stared back at Donna and said, "It really is."

"You think it's going to be all right?" she asked, not noticing him watching her.

"I hope so."

* * *

 **Again, I'd like to thank my human computer (aka beta) ashadesofblue. Wonderful squees... hm, correcting. I'd like to thank all of you again for your wonderful reviews. Again, review if you like (or hate). I'll begin writing ch.5 tomorrow. Oh and I'm gonna have time to write more too. ;)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Too Many Times**

 _Suits / Donna x Harvey (darvey)_

 **Chapter 5 – You were my North Star**

The light of the moon gave an aura of mystery to her fair complexion. He wanted nothing but to touch the freckle pattern on her face and neck, drop kisses he'd forbidden himself to think of before. Her skin tone taunted him, intense white with here and there blueish particles. It was a different perspective than that of the light of day.

Had he remained in New York, he felt like he'd have turned into ashes, burning down next to her from her lack of reciprocity.

She was in trouble because she had lost track of why she had come here in the first place.

Had she remained in New York, she never would've felt what she was feeling now, him looking at her from the corners of his eyes.

She was his fire. She was his North Star. She was his always.

They were in a different place, at a different pace and one of them was watching the other's face.

Donna had focused on the possibly-wounded animal that had lain down under the tree, looking for shelter. But Harvey hadn't. At least not long enough for her mind to register their inevitable proximity. She was fused to go off if he kept breathing next to her. Everything was so quiet she could hear herself breathing in and out faster with every second.

They had been staying like this for quite some time. As if being side by side, like they had so many times before, was enough to silence their faculty of consciousness. Standing as still as the animal before them, their minds had united. But they'd come into each other's light sideways. And she'd joined him under his roof. Even if it were just for one night, he felt he was the one who had found shelter with her being right where his heart told him she belonged.

"I want to kiss you," he said barely above a whisper and breaking their breathing.

She was unprepared for that. She turned her head, her gaze immediately setting on his lips. As if dehydrated, they had dried out and shrunk. Her body told her she could cave in and keep them moisturized.

"Harvey…" she said, her voice low.

"The last thing I want to do is talk." His voice was hoarse

He'd stepped over an already thin line; the tenderness in his eyes had turned into something else. She switched her eyes to his, no matter how afraid she was of getting lost in them again. Better than his lips. Lips she imagined cooler because they couldn't be as warm as they had felt pressed up against her own earlier that day, could they?

She felt a smoldering heat deep within her when she realized she might as well have been that deer. She could have wrapped her legs around him in a matter of seconds hadn't her survival instinct kicked in.

"Don't do this," she begged. Another kiss would obliterate every thought and every last shred of sanity.

"Why did you come here then?"

"What?" she asked, softly, as if he should have known why. Was she even aware of her own reasons? Had she any besides that gut feeling – that need of him?

"Whatever you have to say, just say it." It was sharp and sounded effective as if Harvey Specter in the flesh had kicked in, right back into this man's skin.

She took a step back and narrowed her eyes.

"Because you're trying to control my every move again?" She sounded resentful on levels she hadn't thought of in a long time.

It took him aback. And it cut deep but he kept his mind on track. "No. You just don't know–"

"No, _you_ don't know shit, Harvey!" she let out, cutting him off louder than she had intended and looked back at the deer. It was still here.

"Weren't you the one who used to say 'No one's leaving you'?"

"You're the one who left, Harvey."

"Exactly."

"I'm going to bed and I hope to God I forget this," she paused, gesturing between them and added, "ever happened."

Donna stormed out of the living room and went back in his bedroom, the weight of his stare hunting her back.

* * *

She'd heard him groan under the shower. The sound of water had woken her up. And she'd been listening in on his exertion as if there were no more boundaries between them. The thin wall between the two rooms was an excruciating reminder of his biological sex. He'd been her boss, her colleague and her friend but he'd always been something more. Staring at the ceiling, the frustration between her thighs told her she had to stop. She got dressed and went to the main room, closing the door on her way out with an unwanted bang.

"Shit," she silently cursed, accusatorily. But she pulled herself together and went to make some coffee.

"Donna?" She heard him open the door and emerge from the bathroom.

She closed her eyes, angered at her inability to make a silent exit. She turned around and saw him struggling to put a towel around his waist. His hair was wet and droplets of water covered his upper-body and biceps. The hair on his face, forearms and under his armpits, and just seeing him like this, had her rewind twelve years and sixty minutes in a second.

"I thought you–" He stopped himself, his voice hoarse.

"I just wanted some coffee." She averted her eyes.

"I made a fresh pot and there's vanilla in the cupboard," he said, giving her a small smile of relief before asking, "I need clothes, do you mind if I go to my room?"

"No, of course not," she said, her eyes wide and out of control. As if she would mind him not having to look stunned and desperate. He adjusted his towel and walked to the bedroom.

He closed the door and she heard herself breathe in again.

* * *

The deer was gone. She felt a slight chill that even the warm cup in her hand wouldn't make subside. Their last conversation was still on her mind. She wasn't even sure he knew what being in love with someone meant. But she had more pressing matters to figure out than his inability to open up through communication.

She had to call Robert and tell him she would stay. Her phone was in the bedroom so she used Harvey's instead. He wasn't a complete man of the woods yet. Facial recognition would imply a tough look to pull on her part. Unlocking password protection on the other hand was still anchored in the realm of possibilities.

She typed in the only password she knew, hoping it hadn't changed. The scotch was gone but the vanilla hadn't budged. She felt she wouldn't need to call Robert if he'd changed it.

She entered the month, day and year of the day they had walked down the walls of Pearson Hardman for the first time together. They were way too sentimental for their own benefit. She bit her lip when the interface popped up.

Discarding the feeling that she wanted a better picture of his new life through his phone, she typed in Robert's number which – as it turned out, was already listed.

Nothing seemed to be standing in the way of that phone call.

* * *

It had taken him a minute to gather his thoughts. Had she heard him? He felt like a fool and a fucking pervert all at once. He wouldn't have felt this way had he been thinking about someone else. But he hadn't been thinking about anyone else in a long time. The only thing that made the emptiness bearable for months was his damn prick. Being a man sometimes sucked.

He couldn't have kept his mouth shut last night. He'd acted like an alpha male using his dominion as a prison and seeking dominance over the woman he considered his. No matter how unsure, sweet or kind he might have seemed, he'd tried to leave her with no choice but to surrender to him, like he'd always done.

He'd left for her sake and he hated himself for being the reason why she hadn't run away yet.

He had to get his shit together.

* * *

Donna heard two knocks on the door and went to open it. Harvey's mother didn't seem the least surprised to see her here.

"Hello," she said.

"Hello," Donna replied, awkwardly.

"I'm sorry to bother you but I brought Harvey his car back from the auto repair shop," she explained, bearing a keychain in her hands.

She recognized the keys; it was his old Ford Mustang. She thought he'd gotten rid of it when he bought the Ferrari. It had always given off a kind of rustic chic vibe, counterbalancing his classy self – and especially so when he would wear the Ray Bans.

"I thought he would have gone for a pick-up truck," Donna let out.

"Oh, he has one. Haven't you seen it parked outside?" Lily asked.

"Haven't seen much but the inside of his house to be honest," she said, truthfully.

"Oh…" Lily blushed.

"Oh, no, it's not what you think." Donna panicked but was cut off by Harvey's voice before she could say anything else.

"Hey Mom," Harvey said, joining them.

She felt him halt behind her as if standing this close was healthy given the circumstances.

"Hey, Honey," she smiled. "The car's parked next to your pick-up."

"Thanks Mom," he said, taking the keychain from her and said, "It was the connecting rod, wasn't it?"

She nodded yes and said, glancing back and forth between Donna and her son: "The repairman told me to tell you not to drive this precious car off the road."

Donna wasn't sure where to look anymore. Standing between them as if she were a filter; invited to a conversation she had no business with.

He tilted his head to the side and replied: "A one-time mishap. I'll be careful from now on."

"Good," Lily said, and was about to leave when she turned around and asked, "What do you say you come and join us for dinner tonight?"

Donna wasn't sure how to respond to that and she couldn't see Harvey's face – him and his damn closeness.

"It's up to you, Donna," Harvey said, his eyes bore into his mother's as if his world would crumble no matter her answer.

"Yes, thank you, Mrs. Specter," Donna said.

"Call me, Lily," the older woman said and left.

Harvey closed the door, leaving room for Donna to escape his rock-like figure and not run aground.

"You didn't have to agree to this," he said, leaning against the door with his arms crossed.

"It's okay, I want to go. Your mom has been nice to me," she said.

"You know that my entire family's going to be there, right?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

It wasn't reassuring to say the least but it had always been this side of him that mattered: his real family. They probably connected the last dots she needed to understand him fully.

"I'll just have to get used to feeling like a culprit waiting for your family to work the guillotine," she said.

"Who says you're guilty?" he asked, walking back to her.

He was closing the space between them again.

"I need a shower," she said.

He gulped slightly, thinking about his own moment of privacy.

"About this morning–" he began but she cut him off.

"You should feel sorry about last night, Harvey," she countered.

"I wasn't gonna say I'm sorry," he said, staring into her eyes before closing them a few seconds to muse over his next words. He sighed and added: "I'll give you this though. I'm sorry for the way I'm making you feel right now."

"Okay," she said, startled by his admission.

"Okay," he said back.

She was about to retreat to the bathroom when she heard him say: "I coach baseball now. Practice starts in an hour and I'd like for you to come with me."

"You're a baseball coach?" she asked.

"Assistant coach," he answered and added, "Those kids are great."

"Kids?" she asked, sounding repetitive. The pensive look in her eyes wasn't helping.

"Yes, children, Donna," he said, amused at the state she was in. "I'd understand if you didn't want to come."

"Do you want me to say no to this _too_?" she asked. Her playful tone surprised him.

"I'm not my mother, am I?" he smirked, feeling they were touching common ground at least for now.

She chuckled and, right before closing the door behind her, said, "And by the way? I'm hoping your water heating system works for two showers."

"Oh, definitely, you could take a hundred–" he began explaining but she interrupted him once again.

"Harvey? I don't really care about the shower," she said, giving him a suggestive look and closed the door.

His eyes went wide at the mental pictures she'd sent his way. She had no idea how in control she was.

* * *

 **As always, I hope you liked it. Again, thank you for all your wonderful reviews. Don't hesitate to leave me a review even though it is a shorter chapter. They really do keep me going. Onto chapter 6!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Too Many Times**

 _Suits / Donna x Harvey (darvey)_

 **Chapter 6 – I need my feelings set on fire**

 _I get chills_

 _Heartbreak multiplies_

 _I'm on a different kind of high_

 _A rush of blood is not enough_

 _I need my feelings set on fire_

 _Now I'm deep in it, infatuated_

 _Strong attraction_

 _Side by side, and I know that you want to_

 _I Dare You - The XX_

Harvey was waiting for Donna outside, pacing back and forth towards nowhere in particular. He hadn't seen her yet. So she stood by the window and took the time to look at him – really look at him. He was wearing his Wayfarer Ray Ban sunglasses on his head – his hair looked clean and untidy. Her eyes were glued to the burgundy t-shirt that fit his chest, upper back and arms closely. She really couldn't get over how good he looked. She missed the suits but this casual look made him seem more carefree – younger even. He'd put on weight for sure – a good ten pounds of muscle.

He would need to get his suits tailored again. But contexts had changed; breaking their old patterns when she became COO and then when he left. He wasn't coming back, was he? How could all of this work out? Questions led to more questions. The secretary in her would have said give him some space, he'll come around but she never would have kissed him that night in her office. The COO would have told him not to go because she did feel something that night but he probably wouldn't have left had he known. Would he have left either way? So all she was left with was Donna, her very own fucked-up version of herself – the one that didn't know shit.

The kiss was the last thing she had expected and yet she wouldn't have wanted anything else. The meaning of this kiss was tainted by its rawness: crude, incomplete and yet perfect.

The tender way his lips held onto her throat against her skin seemed as if he'd needed contact more than air. He hadn't needed her in months. Why would he need her now?

The shower had helped ease all kinds of tension: from the heat she'd felt thinking about him the way he must have been thinking about her to the letter. She'd spent some time thinking about the latter. She knew she had never occulted his words every time she'd stopped by his office; the worst moments where when she had stayed at his apartment thinking he should have been making love to her instead of being gone. If this was how he really felt, he should have said something. Would she have jumped right in? Maybe he had been right to leave. In all her searching, she'd found that that the only thing that made her feel whole was him being there, by her side. Of course she had felt something when she had kissed him; something she had kept inside for so long. But he was taken and she had made a mistake. Could she have foreseen him choosing her over another woman? She would be lying if she hadn't been hoping for that very scenario. He had come to her apartment, determined to get her back. But his face had troubled her. He was silently angry at her for being again the reason behind his failure; being with someone other than her and being incapable of keeping her at arm's length. Therefore, how could this be that it was all that they'd been?

So why was she thinking back to a time when she used to take care of his suits? She left the window and went to meet the man who it seemed, had been waiting for her.

She didn't have a change of clothes so she'd put on what she had been wearing last night: jeans, his t-shirt and Bobby's shoes. She would need to go shopping in the afternoon. Had Rachel still been around, she would have asked her to send her some of her clothes from back home. But Louis was the only other person who had a spare key and she definitely didn't want him to search through her things no matter how much she trusted him to be a gentleman.

She walked up to Harvey and said: "So, no blow dryer?"

Harvey was startled for a second and turned to her. Her hair was wet but the chances she would catch a cold in such a warm weather were slim.

"Sorry, I never have to use one," he said.

"I thought one of your girlfriends might have brought one over and forgot it," she said.

Harvey didn't want to respond to her comment afraid they would go back to yesterday's antics and fight.

His lack of repartee troubled her. But she decided against going any further with this.

"So, I was wondering if I could borrow one of your cars to go buy my own particular brand of survival kit this afternoon." Donna asked.

"Survival kit?" he asked.

"Clothes," she explained.

"Yeah, sure, you can have the mustang if you want," he said and added, "want me to come with you?"

"I think I have to say no to that," she said.

"You want to be alone?" he asked, perplexedly.

"Yes," she said and added, "I need this."

"Okay," he said.

He gestured for her to follow him as he began walking toward where his pickup-truck was parked on the street.

Turning around, he pulled one of his best Donna-you-forgot-something look. She could have sworn he was wearing his grey suit there; the vision sweet and familiar.

"Dooonna?" he asked.

"Haaarvey?" she mimicked, sensing there was a question.

"Would you mind closing the door?" he asked, walking back towards her and handing her the keys

It was so him. She knew what he meant by that. She'd hurt his pride when she said that he was trying to control her. It was true he had never had to tell her anything because she just knew. And when he would ask her to do something it was simple. She had to – she was being paid for it. But sometimes, just like closing that door, he was asking her for a favor. This wasn't work-related. Not asking for obedience but for her to meet him halfway.

She took the keys and went to close the door thinking she was closing the door on her earlier thoughts. On a tight space and on something she wouldn't have to face again until later tonight. It was his own messed up way of showing her that she was part of this house for the time being – whether she liked it or not. Same as with the suits she'd tuck under her arm – she held and was a part of him.

* * *

The silent car ride made him wonder whether to put some music on or not. She'd been staring out the window for most of the trip. He'd driven on this road more times than he could count. But this time it felt different. As if he was discovering new grounds. The town had never seemed so lively to him, the trees so green and the drive so long. He had to speak.

"Practice on the weekend is less stressful for the kids. It lasts about an hour, an hour and a half," he said, breaking the silence.

"Okay," she said.

"There's a ten minute warm-up followed by twenty minutes of technique and skill development. Then Fred and I split the group into two teams."

"Fred?" she asked.

"He's an old friend of mine. We used to hang out in High School. He's the coach. You'll probably get to meet his wife, Daphne. She's really nice," he answered.

"So I take it I'll be staying with the moms behind the fence?" she asked.

"I heard the company's insanely fun. Anyway, Fred will monitor free play by himself so we can go get some lunch afterwards. If you'd like of course," he said.

"Well, I won't say no to two real meals in one day," she said.

"Then I guess you've never heard of _Jackson's kitchen_ ," he smiled, eyebrows showing just a little above his sunglasses. He looked sexy as hell mocking her diet.

They reached their destination and, once out of the car, Donna took the time to watch him get his gear from the trunk before following him to the Clay Middle School field.

An entire convent of plunging necklines was gazing at the man beside her. It wasn't a conundrum for her to translate; those women seated on the benches – whom she assumed had to be the mothers, were salivating over Harvey. There, she began to feel like the other woman.

"See you when we're done," he said and added, his hands grazing hers, "my team are the ones in blue by the way."

"I'll root for Fred's team," she said, even though she hadn't even met the guy.

"Well, see the woman waving at us and asking you to join her?" he asked, waving back.

"Yes," Donna said, turning to look.

"That's Fred's wife, Daphne, and she roots for me every goddamn time," he said, enjoying the way her eyes met his again. He winked at her before heading to the field.

Donna sighed and figured at least Daphne's neckline wasn't as plunging as the other women's.

"Hi, I'm Donna," she said, extending her hand to the other woman.

"Hi, I'm Daphne, very nice to meet you," she said, and offered her a seat next to her.

"So apparently you never root for your husband's team?" Donna asked.

"No, I only root for him when he and Harvey play on different sides. We have this little thing called dads' game on Fridays," Daphne explained.

"There's a dads' game?" she asked, surprised.

"Yep AND a moms' game too," she said, and added, "But trust me winning against these women is so easy I even wonder why I'm still doing it."

"Because beating the shit out of them sounds amazing?" Donna laughed.

"Yes," the woman laughed, "it really does, doesn't it?"

* * *

"So, who the hell are you and why is there a glimmer of hope on your face?" Fred asked as soon as his friend had joined him.

"You're wondering who she is, aren't you?" Harvey asked, pulling his sunglasses over his head.

"Well, I think I know who she is," Fred said.

"Do you now?" Harvey asked in a condescending manner.

"She's the one that got away," Fred said.

"She's not and I wouldn't want to burden your tiny brain with this anyway," Harvey said.

"So she's your upcoming one night stand then? Good for you considering you haven't had any in a long time," Fred asked, discarding his friend's patronizing attitude.

Harvey sighed and stared his friend in the eye, daring him to continue.

"You're telling me to mind my own business right now, are you?" Fred said, biting the inside of his cheek a little.

"You think?" Harvey asked, twisting his lips and dropping his gear near the catcher's box.

"Harvey?" Fred began before adding, "I just want to see you happy man."

"We should start practice," Harvey simply said, joining the kids.

"See, you're not saying you want to beat the shit out of me today which means…" Fred let out, following his friend.

Harvey turned around and asked, slightly annoyed at his friend's perseverance: "Which means what exactly?"

"That your team's going to lose," he said, mocking his friend and patting him on the shoulder.

"Fred?" he asked.

"Yes, Harvey?" Fred asked back.

"There's no way I'm losing today," Harvey said, with a sly smile and the corner of his eyes crinkling.

* * *

Donna hadn't ever spent as much time observing him as she had in less than 24 hours. She felt as if he had given her that right. She was a grown woman thinking like an adolescent crushing on the jock, in awe of his physical appearance. Quite sensitive of the way he looked, running after the kids and around the bases, she wasn't able to take her eyes off him.

He was laughing, cracking jokes with the kids and scolding a few. So focused and yet capable of sending one furtive glance her way every now and then. She felt suspended in time and out of focus for there would be hell to pay sometime soon. She was in too deep and it scared the shit out of her.

"He's really good with the kids," Daphne said, pulling Donna out of her reverie.

"I've never seen him like that," she admitted.

"Well, I've only known Harvey a couple of months so I wouldn't know how he must have been like in the past," Daphne said.

"I'd say his life used to be like this and now it looks like this," Donna said, gesturing the different stages with her right hand – high and low, respectively.

"Sounds like you really know him," Daphne said.

She couldn't blame the woman for stating the obvious. It wasn't like it hadn't been said to her millions of times before. But this time it felt different.

"Where are your kids?" Donna asked, changing the conversation.

It took the woman aback slightly but she answered nevertheless: "Teddy's on Harvey's team, he's the one with the red cap and my daughter, Sarah, is at soccer practice, I'll have to go check on her at some point; it's not too far from here."

"If it isn't Daphne, looking glorious as ever," a woman – whom Donna had seen walk up to them, stated, towering above the coach's wife.

Daphne's eyes went wide and mouthed a crystal clear 'shit' to Donna.

"Sophie, hi!" the petite woman said.

Sophie was an attractive brunette with a tan – slender and yet she had curves in the right places.

"And who might this redhead be?" Sophie asked, glaring at Donna.

Why she was the recipient of that look, she had no idea. So, she answered the woman herself: "I'm a friend of Harvey's."

"The assistant coach," Daphne specified.

"I didn't wait for you to tell his name, you know," Sophie said, taking a seat beside Daphne and asked: "How long are you in town for, Donna?"

Donna wasn't interested in making small talk with a woman like her and said, acerbically: "You'll have to ask Harvey that."

"Are you his girlfriend?" the annoying woman asked.

"No, I'm his colleague." Donna hadn't thought twice about how she would answer the question – she wasn't lying and yet she could be so good at it.

"See, I'm recently divorced and this man, gosh, isn't he like the hottest piece of ass since your husband started coaching, Daph?" Sophie asked, giving the woman next to her a nudge.

Daphne's eyes went wide again. The poor thing answered awkwardly: "Hm, I guess so?" Donna could have been laughing internally at this point hadn't her negative assessment of the woman been clouding her judgement.

"Since you seem to know him so well… How can we make him interested?" the woman asked Donna, loud enough for her own friends to hear.

"Sophie…" Fred's wife warned her friend.

"Start with not asking his colleague such a question," Donna retorted, feeling the glare of at least a dozen women on her.

"Who does she think she is?"

" _She_ is at least capable of having the decency to hold back on calling a man a piece of meat," Donna said. She was lying. She'd done it before. But she'd never said anything of the sort about Harvey and couldn't stand it being done to him either.

"The nerve you have lady, you've been ogling him like the rest of us this entire time," Sophie added.

"Think what you want but don't ask me how to get Harvey's attention," Donna said.

"You're just jealous," Sophie said.

Donna closed her eyes a moment, choosing her words carefully. " _Lady_ ," she stressed and added, "I usually don't like doing this to another woman but you've left me with no choice. I've known him long enough to say he wouldn't be interested. And I know you're only asking this because you feel threatened by me. So cut the crap."

"We don't know you and I honestly don't give a rat's ass about what you may think," Sophie said and added, "At least I'm not pretending to be anything more than a woman who's interested. You on the other hand…"

"Donna… My name's Donna. And Harvey knows my name," Donna let out.

"Protective much?" the woman laughed, seeking her friends' support with her eyes and added, "I didn't picture you as someone who would feel the need to be defined by a man," the woman asserted.

"Then I guess, you don't understand how deeply _I_ define him," Donna said, leaving the group of mothers and their disdainful glares.

* * *

It didn't take Harvey more than a minute to realize Donna was walking away from the crowd. It was almost free play time so he asked Fred to take care of his team's pitcher.

"But I don't want your team to win, Harvey," Fred said, watching Harvey running away. His own kid started poking him.

"Dad? Where is Coach Harvey going?" Teddy asked, bat in hand.

"He's just trying to show you that you guys that you can win without him," Fred reassured his son.

* * *

"Donna," he said, catching up to her.

"I'm my own woman, right?" she asked, spinning around to look at him.

"Where is this coming from?" Harvey asked, his breathing erratic.

"Did you just run a freaking marathon?" she asked, surprised at his lack of oxygen.

"No, I just… I just ran to meet you, that's it," he said, not wanting to get into his own insecurities and added: "So, what happened back there?"

"It doesn't matter. I just needed to get away from those… those prying horny wives or divorcee and their sagging-breasts," Donna said, bitter.

"Wow, well I've always taken you as someone who would be sweeter on your own sex," Harvey smirked.

"I am. Except when..." she began until the woman in question, Sophie, passed them by.

"Hello, Harvey," Sophie said, winking and added, right before going away, "my door's always open if you want something with more sass and no strings." The way she was swaying her ass unleashed the outburst Donna had been meaning to contain as much as possible.

"Oh I'm going to show you a piece of my sass," Donna said ready to go and give the woman her 0.2 cents instead of doing what she would have usually done: replied with a snarky comment.

"Hey, hey, hey," Harvey stopped her, encircling her waist, pulling her close to him and whispered in the crook of her neck, "She's not worth it."

"She's so freaking infuriating," Donna said, fidgeting as she tried to haul herself out of his grasp.

"I know," he said, using more strength to block her movements and added, "Damn it you're strong."

"She won't get away with this," she let out and then felt it: him breathing down her neck.

"She will because you're smarter than her," he said, sensing her calm down.

"She said some things about you… about me," Donna sighed, relaxing in his arms.

"She doesn't know shit about us," Harvey said, enjoying their moment a little too much.

The ' _us'_ part of his speech had realize what they were doing wasn't normal – not that he could have answered with any other pronoun. "I know," she said, letting her anger subside, replacing it with the unknown that she dreaded more than anything else.

"Can I let go, now?" he said. She had no idea just how reluctant he was to do that.

"I won't try to beat the shit out of her, no," she said and felt him let go of her. She turned around and straightened her t-shirt a little; he was staring again.

"I don't need to hear this from me but I'll say it nevertheless," he began saying. "I've only ever seen you as what you are: strong and independent," he said. Nothing on his face could have made him seem anything short of honest.

The letter popped into her head again. _I've never been wrong about you. You're the most amazing woman I've ever met and nothing and no one can ever change that._ She had felt out of her comfort zone with that woman; more than she had ever before. And it was all because they were different. Twenty hours in and she felt as if his world was twisting hers, nerves were struck, her repartee had gone AWOL and her expectations delayed. Everything was at a tipping point and the fall would be uncontrollable.

She never got to reply for Fred had joined them.

"Hey, sorry for interrupting guys," he said and introduced himself to Donna, "My name's Fred by the way."

"Donna," she said, shaking his hand.

"So, Harv', looks like my team beat yours. Sorry you weren't around to see that," he said, apologetically.

"He's lying! He's lying! I swear." Donna heard the little boy with the red cap say, catching up to his father.

"Kids these days, you can't trust them," Fred said, pulling his son's cap downward.

"Actually, children under 14 are not required to swear an oath. So Ted, do you have proof?" Harvey asked, squatting to the kid's height.

"I do! Two strikes in Dad said I wasn't batting well enough so I thought I should just prove him wrong," he said.

"Great thinking," Harvey said, turning his head slightly to seek Donna's approval.

"And so I hit the ball so hard I was able to hit a home run!" Teddy said.

Harvey high fived the kid and messed up his hair, "Attaboy!"

Fred scratched his head and said, "Guess I can't beat a lawyer, can I?"

"Not just any lawyer," Harvey began and said, point his thumb at himself, "me."

"He'll never change," Fred said and picked up his ears to hear his wife yell, "ask them where they're going for lunch. We could all eat together."

"Jackson's kitchen," Harvey said.

"JACKSON'S KITCHEN," Fred yelled back.

"Of course you can join us," Donna said which surprised Harvey slightly.

"OF COURSE WE CAN JOIN THEM," Fred added and turned back to Harvey and said, "We'll join you there don't forget to grab your stuff. I know this little one here has been trying to use your bat for the longest of time."

"He can, I don't mind," Harvey said.

"Thanks, Harvey," Fred said, pulling his kid closer.

"What about free play?" Harvey asked.

"The kids will live," Fred said and added, "Go tell your mom to get Sarah."

"What about the moms, they might not be too happy about that…" Donna said.

"Their sight for sore eyes is gone," he said, glancing at Harvey before, "I think we'll be okay."

He winked at Donna and left to meet his wife.

"Well I guess we can go," Harvey said, smiling.

"Stop that!" she said, elbowing him in the gut.

"Ouch!" he fake pouted and added, "What have I done now?"

"Were you ever gonna tell Fred that child witness under 14 weren't required to make an affirmation before giving evidence?" Donna asked.

Harvey smirked and stared at the woman beside him who'd memorized precedents she had never been forced to learn in the first place.

"This isn't New York, Donna, get a grip!" Harvey said.

"Always playing the man, aren't you?" Donna sighed.

"You wouldn't want me any other way," he winked at her.

* * *

Lunch with the Morgans had been quite pleasant and the food – albeit fat, was delicious. It never felt tense or unnatural. They were his friends, not his family.

Harvey and Donna had sat next to one another and the latter couldn't believe all the gossip she was getting from Fred.

 _You should have seen him trying to get into that guy's room from the window with a stink bomb in his backpack. He looked ridiculous. It was a freaking two-storey house and he thought he was Superman._

 _More like the Joker; I was trying to prank Rob, remember…_

 _And not fail miserably, I know. So, he eventually got in but it ended up being his parents' room… and Harvey here, had to freaking run for his life._

 _So did Harvey have a girlfriend back then?_

 _No, not with THAT haircut._

 _No, no, no, no, I had many girlfriends back then._

 _I had more!_

 _The hell you did!_

 _When did you meet Fred?_

 _It was about 15 years ago now, at this great pub The Flare. You should come by once, they have great music. This is where our boys and Marcus spend most of their time these days. Katie and I are usually their ride home if you get my drift._

 _We're NOT alcoholics._

 _Donna, do you play soccer?_

 _I did for a while. I was better at Lacrosse though._

 _I never knew that._

 _There are many things you don't know about me._

 _Mom? Are they mom and dad too?_

 _No, we're not. We're friends._

Sarah's innocent comment had Harvey and Donna feel ill-at-ease for a moment. Seven-year-olds could cut you deep in the gut with the sweetest remarks. They weren't mom and dad. She wasn't even sure she could have children anymore and they certainly weren't a thing. But the way his eyes bore into hers at that moment, she understood how close they had always looked. She noticed that little twitch in his eyes that meant it was okay. They didn't have to think things through because of a child's way of putting two and two together.

They said goodbye around 3 PM, planning drinks at The Flare tomorrow night. Harvey drove Donna back to his place just as silently as they had in the morning. She was the one breaking the silence this time.

"Will you ever get this shaved?" she said, pointing at the contours of her chin, drawing invisible circles.

Turning his head around long enough to see what she meant and asked: "The stubble?"

"Eyes on the road," she warned, pausing a second before adding: "And it's more like scruff, now."

"You don't like it?" he asked.

"Well it either tickles or it might just plain hurt, you know," she said, looking annoyed.

"Wait a minute, are you…" he smirked and she became flabbergasted when she realized what he was doing. He drove the car off the road and stopped it.

He unfastened his seatbelt and started inching closer to her.

"You want to kiss me, don't you?"

He had left her flabbergasted so she would defend herself the only way she knew how. "Do you want to kiss me, Harvey?"

"I always want to kiss you," he said and stared at her lips one last time before inching back and fastening his seat belt again.

"Why?" she gulped.

"You know why," he said and started up the car again.

That was his answer to everything related to them. He'd told her he loved her but not in the way she wanted him to. And now, he was like that damn deer again, wounded in his pride so much that he couldn't even state the obvious. He hadn't asked her for her help and run away instead. The deer craved shelter but it was still fighting; by running for its life.

* * *

Once they got out of the car, Harvey went back inside and grabbed his other car keys.

"Be careful with her," Harvey said, handing them to Donna.

"Her?" She raised an eyebrow.

"She treats me well by giving me pleasure on the road. So don't go too fast and be gentle," he said.

"Glad to know you can treat something so well in your life," she said, openly mocking his intentions towards her before walking in the direction of the Ford.

"Shit, Donna?" he began and shouted after her, "It's a stick shift."

"Why do you think I asked for _him_ in particular?" she shouted back with not so much as a hint but as a carefully thought out innuendo about personification.

* * *

Boston had a large choice of designer stores: Dior, Channel, Burberry and Saks. She thought about buying a dress but she already had the one she'd come with. She went for the necessary items instead: a skirt, two pairs of jeans, tops, boots, panties, bras, stockings and ankle length socks; and earrings. But those were just because she felt she needed to buy that extra something. She bought her favorite _Eau de Toilette_ spray, Guerlain's Vetiver. She figured holding four huge bags at the same time was becoming quite a difficult task and she still had to buy deodorant, shampoo and toothpaste. So, she bought a suitcase too, just to transport everything.

She put everything she had bought in that suitcase and went back to her car. She stood near that suitcase for a moment. Some people might have thought her crazy. An entire afternoon all to herself and when she was done, she felt like a puzzle missing its one last piece. She had everything and she felt just as lonely as she had been back in New York. What was she doing? She'd spent her day thinking about him, flirting with him, allowing him to flirt with her, sending mixed signals and some more sexually explicit than others. She'd enjoyed the time with his friends; she had cut him some slack. But they seemed to be going nowhere. She didn't want to wear any of those. She wanted to go home and have that talk. This couldn't go on.

She came back around 5:40 PM. They still had time before dinner at his mother's. There was no sign of his car though. He wasn't home. His tools were still outside. He had probably worked on the house again. How would she be able to open the door? She dropped the bags on the front porch and searched around for a spare key. There was nothing under the mat or the jars. She stood up again and wiped her hands on her pants because of the dirt. She felt a pair of keys she thought to be that of his car in one of her pockets and then she remembered she had put the Ford's in her handbag. These keys were the ones he'd given her earlier this morning to close the front door. He hadn't asked for them back. And Harvey Specter would never forget something like that. The first time he'd given her a spare key was because he had hired an architect for his new apartment. He had to be in court for three days straight and couldn't monitor anything. He'd asked her to give it back to him the moment he was done with his case and she had. The next morning he had pretexted he might need her help someday so he had asked her to keep it.

She felt a chill down her spine hearing the scraping of the key in the keyhole. She closed the door behind her and turned the lights on. She went straight to the bedroom as being chased by a ghost and dropped her new suitcase near the bed. She turned on the lights in there too and saw it. The entire time she'd spent in Boston, she'd felt like she was missing something. And he had found it for her.

"Harvey…" she whispered, staring at the object. It was just a blow dryer and she cursed herself for sentimentalizing over something so trivial. But he'd just said he never used one and not that he would get her one. She couldn't have expected him to remember.

She hadn't thought about everything. She had been thinking about stuff she thought she would need to feel better instead.

* * *

Harvey came back home around 6:10. His mother usually expected him for dinner around 6:45. He had time to get ready.

He came into the house, surprised at the fact that the lights were on. They never were and they were almost blinding him. He gulped slightly at the sight before him. Donna was sitting, legs crossed, on his couch, wearing a white top with sufficient neckline and her skirt was hiked up just enough for him to go mad.

He was dead certain she was wearing stockings. Those boots had heels that could cut right through his skin. He'd better be careful around her.

"Hey," he said, closing the door behind him and added, "you look… great."

"Hey…Thanks for the blow dryer by the way," she replied. She had expected a better word for her look but 'great' seemed to be enough for him.

"You hair was a mess, something had to be done," he stated.

"I hope it's better now," she said and added, leaving him no time to answer, "your car's intact by the way. Women know best."

"I noticed," he said and pursed his lips, trading this little exchange for another more productive one, "I have to go change, I'll be right back."

"Where were you?" she asked before he could walk another step.

"Nowhere," he said and tried to walk into the bedroom but she stopped him.

She knew. She could have smelled it a mile away. "You've been drinking."

"It's not what you think, I'm not drunk," he said, averting his eyes.

"What's in the bag, Harvey?" she asked, pressing him for answers.

"A bottle of whisky and a glass," he admitted.

She didn't have to ask what brand it was. She just knew.

"Where were you, Harvey?" she asked, softly this time.

"I went to my dad's grave," he said, barely above a whisper.

"What - why?" she asked, confused.

"I have my reasons," he said, trying to move past her again but she wasn't letting him. "Come on, Donna, just let me go change. I'm fine, okay?"

"You have blood-shot eyes, Harvey, like you've been crying. You don't look fine," she let out, cupping his face.

"I just need to have a drink with him sometimes, that's it," he said, leaning into her touch.

"What is this?" he asked and seeing her narrowing her eyes at him, added: "What are you doing here?"

"I'm…" Donna began but couldn't finish her sentence. She didn't know.

"This is torture," he said and added, "I'll text my mom and cancel dinner," he said, ready to retreat outside.

"Before you do that, what did you, and your father, talk about?" she asked. It was a threat.

"What did you just say to me?" he asked, his blood boiling at the implication.

"Apparently you can talk to _him_ but me… God knows how hard it is to talk to someone who isn't gone!" she explained, walking in circles around the living room. She knew she was going too far with this but he had just pissed her off making one step back in a matter of seconds.

"And you think everything has to revolve around _you_?" he asked.

"Doesn't it?" she asked.

"It doesn't," Harvey said, turning the lights off and opening the door as if ready to leave. As if he was still alone in this house.

"So that bullshit you said about you being too goddamn lost in me was just it, bullshit?" she asked, her freckles almost disappearing because of their shouting match.

He stood at the threshold, his back to her, still as the door that should have remained closed. The door was the frame and he was this colorless painting from the Romantic era.

"Giving me your keys as if I wouldn't notice? Like you're trying to make this my home too," she added. Her breath got stuck in her throat when he turned around.

"You don't need me, Donna, you never have," he said, staring at the ground between them, defeated.

She suddenly bruised herself raw against stubble, sandwiching her lip between his. The short but sensuous single lip kiss would leave so many things unsaid. She was staring back at him, his features barely visible from the contrast between the light of day coming in from the door and the unlit living room. She hoped his eyes were glistening in the dark.

"Just _say_ that you want me, Harvey," she said, swallowing and holding her breath.

It was all it took for him to lean into her, engulf her in his arms and let his slimmer lips cover hers. His insistent mouth was parting her lips, their tongues met and all he could think about was having her right there on the floor beneath them.

He broke the kiss and dropped to his knees, grabbed her ass, secured her body between his arms and made her sit on his lap – forceful and fast enough to have her squeal at his action. He kissed her some more and then made her lie down on the wooden floor. She had no time to recover that he positioned himself on top of her and kissed her again.

She wasted no time wrapping her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss herself. He groaned into her mouth until she began fumbling with his shirt, wanting him to get rid of it as quickly as possible. He broke the kiss and helped her out. Once the piece of clothing was removed, he kneeled between her parted legs again and took the time to take her boots off, sliding each zipper down individually. The stockings would stay.

He started unbuttoning his pants and dragged his zipper down. The feeling of her hands roaming free over his chest guaranteed he wouldn't need a lot of time to get himself ready for her. He gulped when he felt her hands descend to his pants and boxer briefs. She eased the two over his hips, her nails grazing his firm ass and then brushed the now free length of his cock with her palm.

He arched his back to give her better access as he began thrusting back and forth into her grasp. She slowly bent her quivering knees as he went back to burying his head between her breasts, kissing the exposed cleavage and moving up slowly to her neck. The feeling of every rasp against her skin and that of his rock hard penis in her hand had her limbs jerk. The buildup was too fast and her impending release was something she was trying to prevent.

"You have no idea what you're doing to me," he panted against her neck.

"Less talking, more of this," she said, breathing hard.

He grabbed the hem of her shirt and dragged it just above her bra and then positioned his hands behind her back to unclasp it. He lifted the silk piece of clothing above her breasts, the tightness of her clothes making her breasts plumper and firmer. He started sucking on one of her tits. She let go of his sex and ran her hands through his hair, eventually descending to his back and scratching his skin with her nails. She was holding onto him, pleading him to never stop. But he did stop; he left her breasts and lifted himself back to a kneeling position. Her slit was on the brink of convulsing when he shoved her panties to the side and dipped a finger inside her until his thumb circled her clit.

She shouted his name, once or twice and maybe because her words had never seemed so feral, he wasn't able to stop working his fingers harder. She almost immediately grabbed his hand, her grip strong to make him stop. Her heavy breathing and the moans that were coming out of her mouth told him he really had to stop. Instead, she grabbed his cock again and invited him closer to her slit. As he lay down on top of her again, she helped him ease into her slowly.

Clumsy in his attempt to kiss her again, he settled for her jaw, panting heavily against it. He slowly built a rhythm with her, careful not to lose himself in this position from fear he would hurt her because of the hard floor beneath them.

"Are you okay like this?" he asked.

"Yes," she said.

She slowly met all his thrusts, arching her back towards him, her breasts colliding and crushing against his hard chest. They were both leaving trails of wet kisses against each other's lips, tongues battling every now and then. Before she could come to her senses, he sat up straight again, grabbed her legs and thrusted hard, smacking into her body over and over until his knees started hurting and he had to switch positions. He left her core, slid his legs from under his knees, felt his butt touch the hard wooden floor and stretched them out. Bringing her back to him, he lifted her astride him, hiking her skirt up as much as he could and suddenly rammed her down on his rampant cock.

"Oh, God," she screamed, holding tight to this neck with both hands and feeling him filling her in a way that they hadn't experienced in so long.

Her sex clenched and she came, a spasm of electricity coursing through her; feeling the muscles in her vagina rippling open and shut. She thought she would pass out in the arms of the only man she's ever loved. He joined her the second he heard her whimper escalate to a guttural scream. He got swept away by her walls pulsing against his sex and let himself go. His sweet little moan and heavy breathing brought a smile to her face.

He eased himself out of her, his back eventually touching the hard floor beneath him and lay her down on top of him. Securing her in his arms, he kissed her temple tenderly before saying: "So…"

"So…" she mimicked. Her back hurt and so did her legs. Everything about this had been rough but her post-coital bliss was enough to numb some of the pain. And the fact that he seemed to be hurting as well wasn't an unpleasant thought.

He felt her writhe to pull her shirt down and saw her turn her head slightly in the direction of the door.

He was about to speak when she said something he'd completely forgotten about: "You know the door's been open this entire time, right?"

"What? Ready to leave so soon?" he joked and she hit his chest with the palm of her hand.

"Not funny," she said.

"At least the deer's been a no show, or has it?" he smirked.

"Oh God, how would I know!" she stated before her eyes settled on his lips again. She thrusted her chin forward and kissed him, her nose grazing his gently.

"Donna…" he began. "I… I guess I should call my mom and tell her we might be a little late," he finished, feeling as if telling her the extent of her love meant he had to reveal the amount of guilt he felt.

Too many times he had been willingly to change their dynamic. They should never have to reboot again; no matter the pain and no matter the heartbreaks. He wanted to stay like this even if it meant he would have to steer clear of light and colors.

* * *

 **And that was chapter 6. Hope you enjoyed its length. ^^ I'll upload chapter 7 next week because I'm away for the weekend. I want to thank everybody for reviewing this, from guests / anonymous to the people who don't mind revealing their nicknames. I've read so many amazing reviews and even the smaller ones are just amazing. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Please review if you liked it / or hated it again bc let's be honest, I really want you to review THIS particular chapter. ;)**

 **Addendum: thank you beta of my life, the only queen of smut that is:** AlternateShadesofBlue


	7. Chapter 7

**Too Many Times**

 _Suits / Donna x Harvey (darvey)_

 **Chapter 7 –** There's a limit to your love

 _There's a limit to your love_ _  
_ _Like a waterfall in slow motion_ _  
_ _Like a map with no ocean_ _  
_ _There's a limit to your love_ _  
_ _Your love, your love, your love_

 _ **Limit to Your Love –**_ _ **James Blake**_

Lying partially on him, she was grazing her fingers against his stubble while her other hand travelled down his chest, absentmindedly. He wasn't going to tell her he had to call his mother.

They were forever undefined. She knew from the inside that he wanted to say the things he'd been saying to her with his body only minutes ago. She had been a romantic for so long; idealizing their reality. All she'd ever had with him was this kind of truth or dare relationship. The truth was somewhat easier but the dare part was the silent part. Silence had been broken and her body couldn't get down from this high. The feeling of him on top of her; the heat she felt when she got him naked, when she got to stroke him; how she loved feeling him inside her.

She'd gasped for air so many times that she had forgotten all preconceived views of sex between two consenting adults. She hadn't said yes to being fucked panties on; she didn't have time to offer the possibility of being banged anywhere else but against the hard flood; but she had agreed to pour her need for him out. He had just given her the truth she'd consented to so many years ago. She felt like a goddess. Maybe she was over-exaggerating, or deeply analyzing an urge that needed to be scratched. It had been rough and not particularly pleasant at times but it was the best sex she had had since – Harvey.

The whipped cream had been the best excuse to have him come over for sex. She'd dropped it on the floor the second he'd kissed her. They had gotten naked, taken their time. Harvey had picked up the cream, put some in his mouth and kissed her at one point or another. He'd been about to put some on her entrance, before he'd decided against it. She could remember him say it like it was yesterday; that he didn't need to use that. He'd devoured her intimacy until there was nothing left in her to say no to a second orgasm. That's how good he had been to her. He'd fucked her on that bed and had left a couple of hours later, blood shot eyes as if he were on the verge of tears. As if he'd done something wrong.

The next morning he'd asked her to move to his desk because he didn't want to lose her. She had seen that exact same look a couple of times on him since she'd found him. It was the look he'd given her every time he felt guilty, every time he wouldn't say what was on his mind.

And the only times she'd seen this look, it had to do with her and the fact that he loved her. Even when he'd come over to her place to talk about the possibility of Mike going to jail. She'd told him she didn't want to lose him and he'd looked at her that way. Every time he wanted her to come back, he'd shared that look with her. She wasn't sure she understood that look and almost thirty minutes ago now, she had seen it again; when he came home from his dad's grave.

"I left my phone in the car," he said. She wasn't paying attention to his words but to his sweat. The pearly drops of perspiration exuding from the pores of his skin told her all that she needed to know. He had desired her despite his utmost fear, whatever it was.

She remembered him younger, shaved, less built; same dick, though. She smiled. She had missed seeing him naked, she had missed seeing them like this and she wanted to forget everything and get lost in this moment with him again – and soon.

She'd been looking at his soft and semi cock; he picked up on that.

"Enjoying the view?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows at her.

She rolled her eyes and said, "Can't a girl just appreciate to look at something she doesn't have?"

"You just HAD me." The bastard was on the verge of laughing.

"Stop messing with predicates and put the package away before you call your mother, okay?" she ordered, feigning disgust.

If Harvey Specter was a piece of meat then he was hers; she could take that bitch Sophie down any day.

"Fine," he said, trying to roll to the side, away from her but she wasn't letting him and blocked him with her legs. He stared at the heated look in her eyes, her cheeky smile – she was thinking back to barely a moment ago. Harvey dressing up was a sight she didn't want to miss.

He arched his back, grabbed the hem of his boxers and covered himself slowly.

"Satisfied?" he asked, irritated.

"Pretty much. Now I definitely know what I've been missing out on," she said, nodding.

"The best sex of your life?" And unexpected smile crossed his face.

"Screwing with your egotistical tendencies," she said, moving her legs off him.

"Oh, that's how you wanna play it…" he said, getting up.

"Uh-huh, call your mom and then go change," she said, getting up too before retreating to the bathroom.

"I can still see your bare ass by the way," he said, feeling cocky. She waggled her eyebrows before closing the door behind her.

He sighed, walked back to his car and brought his iPhone back. Back in the living room, he searched through his contact list and called his mother.

"Hi, Mom… sorry… I know… yes… half an hour late…, I… DONNA," he began, loud enough for the redhead to hear, before adding, "isn't ready yet. Something to do with the new skirt she bought… I don't know... apparently she put on weight and it's too short…No, I'm not shouting, Mom."

Donna opened the door and shot him a dirty look before mouthing, "I hate you." She immediately rushed to the bedroom and closed the door.

He knew she would have to change and he wanted to watch. "Yeah, we'll be right there, Mom… Okay, see you guys in a few… hanging up now," he added, following after her, before hanging up.

He knocked on the closed door and heard Donna shout the most famous of English pronouns from behind the door.

He hawked and said, "I need clothes too, you know?"

Harvey couldn't help but smirk, hearing Donna ruffle through her things, probably trying to cover herself up. She eventually opened the door and handed him a pair of black trousers, a white shirt and said, "There, you'll look more presentable. And grab a shower, you smell like sex."

She was about to close the door when he stuck his hand out to stop her from doing it.

"What if I say I don't want to wash the scent of you away from me?"

She blushed, feeling startled. She had no reason not to try to cover up the glimpse he'd just had. Therefore, she rolled her eyes at him. He smirked and she closed the door in his face.

* * *

She exited the bedroom wearing the dress she'd worn yesterday. The dress featured a flared skirt, a fitted waist, a round neck, short sleeves and a contrast piped trim along the center. The tailored design was a sweet black, elegant and yet edgy. In one word, it was effective. More like her and not ruined – unlike the skirt. They would be taking his car so she went for the same pumps. She saw him seated on the couch, eyes closed. Had she taken that long to get dressed? She walked up to him from the side and saw that he was wearing the white shirt – opened collar, the black pants and caterpillar trey mid lace-up boots.

"I'm not asleep," he said, eyes still closed.

"I know," she lied.

"How did you know I would wear this to go to my mother's?" he asked.

"I just liked the idea of you wearing that," she admitted in a low voice.

He acknowledged her answer – although he could tell something was off. Harvey decided against commenting on that and got off the couch. He took some time to look at her. He settled on her bare legs and asked: "Are you hurting?"

"No," she said, firmly.

"Come on, I know you're feeling sore… I wasn't gentle," he said.

"Harvey," she said, coming closer to him. An oblique look from him was enough to send warning signs to her heart. "I loved everything about what you and I just did." She cupped his right cheek with her right hand and said, "You know how I felt because you felt it too." And she kissed his cheek.

"We should go," he said, closing his eyes for a moment, enjoying her touch.

He took her hand and led her outside. Palm against palm, fingers entwined and a distinct feeling that they weren't done talking limits or lack thereof.

* * *

It took them less than ten minutes to arrive at Lily's. Three cars were parked implying everybody was waiting for them.

Donna panicked slightly.

"Now that I'm here, I don't think this was such a good idea," Donna said.

"Your lack of confidence surprises me," he said, narrowing his eyes and closing the driver's door.

"I just don't feel comfortable now given–" she began but he cut her off. They had taken finishing each other's sentences to a new level.

"Given what just happened?" he asked.

"I don't think I have fully recovered, to be honest," she sighed, scratching her forehead.

"Oh really?" he raised an eyebrow, feeling cocky again.

"That's not what I meant," she said.

"Yeah, I know," he said, smiling down at her. "But knowing my mother, she'll either say or do something that will make you blush."

"This isn't helping," she stated, sending a scornful look his way.

"Well, I guess we won't know what might help until we get in there, right? he asked, offering her his hand.

"You're making this harder, you know?" she said.

"Yes, I know," he replied, feeling a twinge of hope as her fingers interlocked with his. Her agreeing to this handhold – close to the threshold of his childhood house, felt like redemption.

He'd never brought a girlfriend home.

He rang the doorbell.

"You don't have a key?" she asked.

"Nope and Mom hates it when people knock," he said.

"Would have been good to know that when I first came here," she said, almost losing her balance.

"You would have barged in through that door, hadn't my mother answered your incessant knocks, admit it!" he smirked.

"I wouldn't have," she began, turning to face him and added on the verge of venting, "I was hyperventilating at the idea of meeting–"

She heard the door being opened and saw Lily.

"Donna, Harvey! Thanks so much for coming for dessert!" she smiled and invited them in.

"We're not _that_ late, Mom" Harvey said, motioning for Donna to lead the way.

There wasn't anyone in the living room. It was all too silent for his taste.

"Where's everybody?" Harvey asked.

"I sent them home since you weren't coming," Lily said, remaining impassive.

"You what?!" Harvey said, fuming. She couldn't do this. Not when the woman he'd been with had taken that leap. Not when he'd been so set on this. Lily was his mother. She had no right to do that.

"Harvey," he heard Donna say – thinking she was trying to appease him.

"No, Donna." He rejected her touch. "I think it's clear what _Lily_ 's trying to tell us here," he said, ready to leave.

"Hey Harv'!" He heard his brother say joining them from the kitchen, "How's it going?"

Harvey let out a sigh of relief and hugged his brother, giving his mother a death glare.

"Sorry, that one was too tempting," Lily said, smirking.

Donna sighed too and saw Marcus glance at her. She waited until he quit hugging Harvey, offered her hand and said: "Hi, I'm Donna."

"I know who you are. My brother's been telling me about you for years," Marcus said, accepting her hand.

"You mean mention me when I set his appointments?" she asked.

"Among other things," he said, letting go of her hand.

They moved to the kitchen and saw where Bobby and Katie were having drinks over at the dinner table. The table was set and the covered pot looked warm as if the kitchen workers had been reheating the main course a couple of times, making sure everything was ready. Donna realized just how hungry she was, the smell of what she thought was Bolognese pasta hit her nostrils.

"Hey," Bobby and Katie said, greeting Harvey and then Donna.

"I'm Katie, Marcus's wife," the blond woman said. Katie was of average height and gorgeous. Donna thought she and Marcus made a lovely couple. "It's so nice meeting you Donna."

"You too," Donna said and added, "we're so sorry for being late."

"It's okay," Bobby said, offering his hand to Donna. "I understand you had a problem with your skirt?" The older man asked, incredulous.

If Donna had been holding a glass she would've spilled it instantly. Harvey was doing his best to prevent the corners of lips from moving up.

"Donna, why don't you have a seat?" Lily offered.

"Thank you," Donna said, seating down, observing Harvey do the same, seating next to his brother on the opposite side of the table. Whether it was a deliberate choice on his part or not to protect their privacy – no matter the previous seating arrangements, she felt like he'd truly let go of her hand this time. "I had to buy clothes this afternoon and I didn't think I had enough _time_ to try it on first." She eyed him carefully before turning her face back to Bobby. "I'm usually very good with sizes. I should have known it would be too tight – short," she said, correcting herself. The smug look on her face was purely for Harvey's benefit.

"I thought you had an eye for everything," Harvey let out.

"I've been known to be wrong before," Donna said.

"Let me fix you a drink, Donna," Marcus said, sitting and opening a bottle of wine.

"Thanks," she said.

"I hope you like Bolognese Pasta," Lily said, pulling the cast iron lid off.

"Smells good, Mom," Harvey said and she kissed the top of his head in return.

"So how was practice today, Harv'," Marcus asked, pouring Donna a drink.

"It was fine," Harvey said, today's past events rushing back to him like flood.

Donna thanked him as Marcus continued addressing Harvey.

"Was Sophie there again?" Marcus asked.

She'd heard that. Her stomach turned, setting her wine down after a long sip.

"What?" Harvey asked, surprised. "No… yes. She…"

Donna couldn't hear the rest of it as Lily launched another conversation.

"Did you go see Harvey at practice?"

"Yes, it was fascinating to see this side of him," Donna answered, still trying to eavesdrop on that other conversation.

"'Your team win?" Marcus asked.

"Of course," Harvey said, thinking about Donna with him – under him.

"Did you work on the house this afternoon?" Marcus asked, pouring everybody else a drink.

"Not for long," Harvey said, thinking about Donna again – in his arms, clinging to him as if hooked on drugs, not giving a care in the world about their hot mess except for what it was: hot.

"He and Gordon used to play baseball all the time. He takes after him so much," Lily said.

"Can we not talk about Dad right now, Mom?" Harvey asked – at least _he_ could hear what was going over her side of the table.

"Where are your kids?" Donna asked Katie.

"They're at home with my niece," Katie said, "which is why we won't stay long. But I heard you're coming over for drinks tomorrow night with Fred and his wife?"

"And when is it ever the right time to talk about him?" Lily asked.

"We are," Donna answered and turned to Harvey and asked, "The Flare, was it?"

Harvey nodded, staring at the food in front of him.

"Not today. That's for sure," Harvey answered, with a threatening tone aimed toward his mother.

"You mean not when Bobby's around. Is that it, Harvey?" Lily asked.

"That'll give us more time to chat." Katie winked at Donna who was sipping on her glass of wine – surprised Harvey was so focused on his food.

"That's not what I meant, Mom," Harvey let out, having completely discarded the conversation he'd been having with his brother.

"Who wants Parmesan?" Lily asked, taking the cheese grater in her hand.

Donna and the rest of the room either said yes, shouted yes or nodded.

"So, Donna, what made you decide to come here?" Bobby asked.

And that was the million dollar question that shouldn't have come up in the first place.

* * *

"Maybe Donna would like to touch her food at some point?" Lily suggested.

"No, I'd like to hear that if you don't mind, Mom," Harvey said, suddenly less focused on the food in front of him.

Where was this coming from? She felt disoriented. Was he just pissed at his mother for bringing up his dad? He couldn't be.

Donna really felt that they'd connected tonight. And yet, they didn't seem to be on an escape to love no matter how solid the ground beneath them finally seemed. It was too damn solid. They were left with roots trying to reach the surface again. Sowing seeds they couldn't grow through concrete; ever higher and yet so low.

He was being a real dick this time. He was deliberately trying to ruin everything. He would never stop setting foot on the shaky grounds of his past.

"I thought we would be discussing this together, Harvey," Donna said.

"Well, apparently, some people here want to discuss the past and some the present." Harvey was lashing out. "I'd rather focus on the present," he said glancing back and forth between his mother and Donna.

"Harvey, I didn't mean to cause any problem," Bobby said.

"Jesus, it's none of our business, Harvey," Marcus said, shifting in his seat.

"On the contrary, Bobby, I think we all want to hear it," Harvey retorted.

"Only you want to hear it, Harvey!" Donna said and added standing up suddenly, "And I don't think you deserve to hear it."

"Donna, please, stay. Don't let my son drag you into his own mess," Lily said, resting her hand on Donna's arm.

"My mess?" Harvey asked and added, "You wanna talk about Dad? Is that it, Mom?"

"You're damn right I want to talk about him," Lily said.

"Lily. Don't…" Bobby warned her.

"I saw you, Harvey… this afternoon. Staring at his grave, drinking… You're not the only one who goes to see him," Lily said, with just a hint of guilt in her voice.

"Have you been following me?" Harvey asked, his shoulders tensing.

Hadn't Marcus been holding Harvey's chair, he thought his brother might have kicked it while rising from it.

"Yes, to make sure my son wasn't going to do anything reckless!" Lily explained. Her voice was filled with fear and the obvious need to protect her son.

Fists clenched, Harvey said, right before he stormed out of the kitchen: "He was a good man, Mom. But you left him anyway."

The kitchen fell silent. Obscure cues and silent understandings seemed to be on everyone's mind. No one at the table moved an inch, the picture of the room in front of them something they'd obviously experienced before.

Donna was about to go after him when Lily stopped her.

"Donna, he's my son," Lily said and pleaded, "Let me handle this."

Although she was reluctant at first, Donna agreed and returned to her seat.

Lily squeezed Bobby's hand and went after her son.

It was Katie who first broke the silence: "You should eat, Donna."

"Has this happened before?" Donna asked, her fingers trembling as she picked up her fork.

"It has," Marcus admitted, having a difficult time eating himself. "But I don't think he's ever gone that far in all the time he's been here."

"Your mother's gonna calm him down," Bobby said and added, looking at Donna, "Don't worry."

She didn't think she had ever been this worried. She wasn't sure she would hold the food down but it was all she could do, seeing as no one was willing to open their mouths to speak.

* * *

Outside, Lily called after her son, running to catch up to him: "Harvey!"

"What now?" he shouted.

"You're not gonna leave her alone in there, are you?" she asked.

"She's a grown woman, she can leave anytime she wants," Harvey said.

"I don't think she can," Lily stated.

He stopped walking away from her and turned back around to meet her.

"And why's that?" he asked.

"Because unlike you, she's not ashamed of her insecurities," Lily said.

"What about Dad, huh? Don't you think he was ashamed of the way he'd treated you?" Harvey lashed out on her again.

"I think your dad and I are just that, your parents. It is not for you to analyze why our relationship didn't work," she added.

"But you've made me a party to that, remember?" Harvey shouted.

"I didn't cheat on him because he went away on tour, Harvey," Lily explained and seeing as her son wasn't cutting her off, she continued, "I cheated on him because I felt lonely. And life got in the way and there was no turning back for me. I regretted it at first and then I started feeling like he'd left me. I knew he hadn't but it felt like it."

Harvey sighed heavily, scratched his head and said: "I'm sorry, Mom."

"That still doesn't excuse what I did to you–" Lily began but was cut off by her son.

"I don't care about that anymore and you know it," Harvey said.

"No, but you care about the ins and outs of your relationship with Donna. You want to see the future as if it could be set in stone. It's not, Harvey and you need to accept that." Lily said.

"I left her, Mom," Harvey sighed and added, "what if she wants to go back to New York?"

"So what if she does?" Lily asked and added, "you're not like your dad and I, you don't have kids you need to take care of."

"What's to say I wouldn't cheat on her, then?" Harvey asked and added, "Cause I'm pretty sure that's all I've been doing with her, all those years. And now…"

"Now, what, Honey?"

"Now that she and I are closer, I'm scared I'm gonna do something to screw it up."

"Like you just did," Lily said, smirking and added, "I haven't seen her run for the hills yet."

"There aren't any hills around, Mom," Harvey said.

"Exactly. Just like cheating isn't something that's in the air or part of someone's genetic make-up," Lily said, taking her son's hand in hers.

"Does Bobby know?" Harvey asked.

"Know what?" Lily asked back.

"That you go to Dad's grave?" Harvey asked.

"He's the one driving me there," Lily smiled.

* * *

Donna hadn't gone through more than one or two bite of her pasta when Harvey came back into the kitchen with his mother. He'd put an arm around her shoulders.

"So, Donna, I assume you came here to discuss business at the firm with Harvey," Lily said – sounding as if Bobby's question was trivial at best.

"I thought you'd quit your job," Katie – who had remained silent for most part of dinner, said.

"I've still got my name on the wall. And technically, I'm still a shareholder," Harvey explained.

Donna had barely nodded – expecting something, anything from the man seated in front of her. But Lily had made sure this wouldn't be the time or the place. And she was glad for it. This woman may have made mistakes but she'd come a long way.

"Every time I'd try to get in touch with Harvey, it seemed that there was something wrong at the firm," Marcus stated, laughing.

Donna and Harvey joined him on the laugh. Dinner started to feel normal again.

"Bad faith cases," Harvey detailed, chewing on his food.

Marcus poured Donna another glass of wine and silently asked Harvey if he cared for another one. The lawyer signaled a firm no.

And Donna followed, drinking a mouthful of her glass: "Hostile takeovers."

"British invasions," he said, swallowing the pasta.

"There was only one British invasion," Donna corrected.

"Not in my mind," Harvey said. The hairs on Donna's arms stood up straight.

"This firm has sure been the better part of our lives for years," Donna concluded, hoping she wouldn't have to mention his attraction to manipulative women. Except for Scotty – she'd always liked Dana.

"Friends going or almost going to prison," Harvey elaborated further, scratching the surface of the table.

Donna saw his eyes fixated on his fingers; 'lost in thoughts' didn't convey what he was really feeling at this moment. It seemed as if his entire being was paralyzed in thoughts except for his digits.

"We've had quite our fair share of moments that had us petrified. But Harvey's always found a way to get us out of those," Donna said – trying to reassure him despite the distance between them.

His eyes shot back to her. He licked his lips and said: "I never could have done it without you." He hadn't said that they – the two of them together – had always found a way to get them out of a situation like he used to. He'd acknowledged her input, her support and her strength – independent from his own. This was the closest thing to intimate that they'd ever been.

Katie, Marcus and Lily seemed to be in awe of the way Harvey had responded to the redhead. Bobby was the one to break the awkward silence by saying: "Well, it sounds like you two make quite the pair."

"I like you Donna. You remind me of Katie," Marcus said, taking his wife's hand in his, "always there by my side – even when the cancer was hitting me hard."

Donna smiled genuinely at the couple.

"And since you're now cancer free, I'm sorry to say this but we have to go so you can pay the babysitter," Katie said, squeezing his hand back.

"That's a secret code for I want to see you naked," Marcus joked.

"Why wasn't I ever paid for my services?" Bobby asked.

"Because you're an old sentimental fool who didn't have the balls to ask," Lily told her partner before kissing his cheek.

"I would have," Harvey said, finishing his plate.

Donna laughed and began, "That's only because your balls always rise to the …" But she stopped herself, feeling it would be too inappropriate.

"I dare you to finish that sentence," he warned her, smirking.

"You don't have to, Donna," Lily said and added, "I know what you were going to say. And I agree."

"You haven't seen my balls since I was a baby, Mom," Harvey said.

"And that's our cue to leave," Marcus said and added, "Not that I'm not interested in your balls, brother. But I have some money to spend."

"Good boy," Katie said, standing up too.

"Bye mom," Marcus said, kissing his mother's cheek.

"I'll hire you instead of the babysitter," Marcus said, shaking Bobby's hand, "at a lower price of course."

"Idiot," Harvey coughed – as if knowing what was coming.

"Oh, Marcus," Bobby said, the grip on his son in law firm, "learn how to pamper your own balls first and then we can settle on a fee."

Lily, Katie and Harvey snickered and Donna couldn't help but join them on it.

"Right, fine…" Marcus said, joining Katie to the far end of the kitchen. "Laugh all you want but at least my balls…"

"Rob and Bert, you mean?" Harvey gave away.

"Here we go again," Lily sighed heavily.

"You named your balls?" Katie let out, wide-eyed.

They all ended up bursting out laughing and all Marcus could say before leaving was, "Never mind. Donna, it was great seeing you."

He then turned to Harvey and said, "You, not so much."

"See you tomorrow, Robert," Harvey let out.

"It was nice meeting you Donna. Looking forward to tomorrow night," Katie said, giving Donna a hug before leaving with her husband.

"Night you guys," Lily said and they waved back.

"That was a good one, Bobby," Harvey patted the man on the back.

"Thanks, Harvey," Bobby replied.

"You got anything stronger to drink to discuss my brother's balls?" Harvey asked the older man.

"I have some bourbon; care to join me in the living room?" Boggy offered.

"Hell, I'd drink anything just to get a good laugh," Harvey said.

"What about dessert?" Lily asked.

"Yeah, I'm good, Mom," Harvey said.

Bobby seemed fine as well. The two men retreated to the living room, leaving Donna and Lily alone.

"What about you?" Lily said, rising from her chair to move in the direction of the fridge.

"Yes, I'd like some dessert, thank you," Donna said, watching Lily remove wrappings from what looked like a pie.

"I hope you like pecan pie," Lily said, placing it on the table.

"Why do I get the feeling that Harvey wanted us to have a moment alone?"

"Nothing seems to slip by you," Lily said, inquisitively.

"Well, I can't say–" Donna was about to begin her Donna shit with Harvey's mother, feeling a slight burst of confidence again but never in a million years could she have expected Lily's interruption.

"–Except my son's love for you," Lily let out.

Donna froze on the spot. That talk about who had the bigger ones, those that would rise to the occasion and more, couldn't live up to that woman's metaphorical ones. Lily Specter had rendered Donna speechless.

"And don't tell me it's complicated," Lily said, serving Donna a slice of pie.

"But it is," Donna said, staring at the pie.

"He is in love with you," Lily said and added, "but the question is: are you too?"

"Sometimes I feel like I know him and sometimes like I don't." Donna panicked.

"You're not answering my question," Lily said.

"I don't think I can," Donna sighed.

"And I think you're afraid to have that talk," Lily said, having a bite of her own slice.

"It's not like I met him yesterday!" Donna lashed out.

"So, that's it, then. You're afraid to be too close to him?" Lily asked, remaining calm in the face of the redhead's temper.

"Of course, I am," Donna admitted, looking into the woman's eyes.

"Why?" Lily asked.

"Because I can't lose him – not again," Donna said – only making sense to her.

"Then why are you staying at his place?" Lily asked. The question was simple and yet so hard to answer.

Donna couldn't bring herself to answer.

"I'll tell you why, my dear," Lily said and continued, "I think you two haven't been this far apart in years. And everything's heightened now; every touch, every feeling coursing through your veins. You want to be close to him. I felt it too when I saw Gordon again after he went on tour. Except I had made a mistake and I felt so guilty that I couldn't stop my affair. I was hurting and I dragged Harvey into it."

Donna let Lily continue, never breaking eye contact.

"Harvey's intuition has always been to be distrustful of his feelings. He's spent months here with us – talking about his damn house, baseball practice as if nothing else mattered. But I knew he wasn't happy. You should have seen him. He's lashed out at me like he did tonight on more than one occasion. I was trying to lead him to open up. But he wouldn't. And tonight, he has. It's because you're here. You're his trigger."

"What did he say?" Donna asked, tentatively.

"That he's just as afraid as you are," Lily said.

"He won't talk to me," Donna said, a single tear escaping her right eye. "And even if he does, I get frustrated with those small steps."

"Give him time," Lily said.

"I'm afraid we're running out of time," Donna said and added, "I'll have to go back to New York and then…"

"Donna…," Lily began, pulling the other woman into a hug.

They stayed like this for a while until Lily broke contact and said, "Donna, look at me."

The redhead did as she was told and snuffled.

"You know you're the first woman he's ever brought home?"

"He didn't really have a choice; I sort of made it for him," Donna retorted.

"And what does that say about the two of you?" Lily asked rhetorically. "I'll tell you what. My son is done making wrong choices."

"What about my choices?" Donna asked.

"You're not the one who left, Donna," Lily said and concluded their conversation. "Now, eat that pie and maybe someday I'll tell you my secret ingredient."

Donna nodded in agreement. No matter how sweet and tasteful the pecan pie felt in her mouth, the contact of the silver fork against her teeth left her with a sour taste in her mouth. Vanilla wasn't sour, was it?

* * *

Harvey and Bobby where finishing up their drinks when Lily and Donna joined them in the living room. The two men seemed to be having a blast.

"Are you boys drunk yet?" Lily asked.

"We only had one drink, Honey," Bobby said.

"How was the pecan pie, Donna?" Harvey asked.

"Not good for my hips but sweet on my lips," Donna lied to the best of her ability.

"It was Harvey's favorite dessert growing up," Lily said.

"What time is it?" Harvey asked – even though Donna assumed from the frown forming on his face that he was meaning to say something else entirely.

Donna checked her phone and said, "It's close to midnight, we can go if you want."

"Yeah, we should," Harvey said and went to pick up both of their coats from the hat stand.

He gave Donna hers, placing it gently on her shoulders.

"Thanks," she said, enjoying the feeling of his hands brushing against the top of the dress.

"This was nice, Harvey," Bobby said, extending his hand to the younger man.

"Next time, I'll get you some real scotch," Harvey said, shaking Bobby's hand.

"It was a pleasure seeing you again, Donna," Lily said, pulling the redhead into a hug again and whispered in her hear, "and next time you want to be late, don't let him come up with some bullshit excuse and call me yourself."

Donna somehow didn't feel surprise at the woman's admission. She smiled into her hair and said with a low voice, "Mrs. Specter, are you asking me to go behind his back, break into his phone and steal your number… God, I wish I had met you years ago."

"Me too, Ms. Paulsen… me too," Lily whispered back.

Bobby gave Donna a hug and the tight group eventually said goodbye.

The moon would become full in a few days. They could almost see everything clearly around them. The light was becoming stronger each day.

"You wanna drive?" Harvey asked.

"I don't think I remember where you live," Donna said.

"I'll guide you through it," he said, throwing the keys at her.

* * *

He couldn't help but stare at her from the passenger's seat.

"Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?" Harvey said.

"Not helping with the driving, Harvey," she said.

"You could pull over and we could, you know," he said. And she was sure he was waggling his eyebrows at her.

"Aren't you the least bit tired?" Donna said although she was enjoying his dirty intention.

"I thought we were only just getting started earlier," he said using his sexy voice.

"Right or left, here?" Donna asked at an impasse.

"Turn left," he said and put a hand on her thigh. "I don't think I've ever hated one of your dresses."

"I have good taste," she patted herself on the back.

"You have the most amazing freckles," he said.

"Are you trying to get your bed back, Harvey?" she teased.

"Turn right at the next stop," he said and added, "Only if you're in it with me."

She blushed at the stop sign, gripping to the steering wheel like she was grasping to the memory of their bodies intertwined.

She engaged the clutch and turned right. She remembered the road and knew she would have to pull up soon. Fear of the unknown and excitement felt like a shot to the veins. She could taste the rush of her inner city life.

"Have you brought any other woman here?" Donna asked. She'd slept in that bed. She'd refused to think about it. But it seemed this is where he was heading and she wasn't sure she wanted to go there with him yet. The need to know was stronger than that.

"No," he said, firmly. And she left it at that. He was telling the truth. But she could tell something was off.

As promised, Harvey had given her instructions and they'd reached his place in less than seven minutes.

They got out of the car feeling different kinds of emotions. Harvey had tried to ease his way into their sleeping arrangement; ready to give her everything she deserved. He also knew she would want to talk and he just didn't feel like dealing with everything at this hour. At least not in the way she might want to. He hoped the talk with his mother would be enough for the night.

He'd expected her to wait for him but she hadn't. She was already opening the door to his house. He kept thinking he'd never stop running after her.

"Hey - hey," he said, grabbing her hand from behind, making her stop at the threshold.

She wanted him but she wanted answers too. And some things didn't add up.

"What happened with Sophie?" she asked, turning around, escaping his hold.

"What's it got to do with–" Harvey began.

"Harvey!" she said, cutting him off admonishingly, "I heard you and your brother talking about her. Something happened, didn't it?"

He looked down and sighed. She was off to the bedroom in a matter of seconds. He didn't run this time; he just walked to his bedroom.

He leaned against the door frame, crossed his arms and watched her taking her coat off, pieces of jewelry and shoes.

"Do you ever close the doors in this house? Jeez…" she asked, shaking her head in disbelief when she heard the floor behind her creak.

"It happened in a bar a couple of months ago," he began softly and she froze. "I'd had a few drinks and she came on to me," he admitted.

"Don't give me that 'I've been drinking bullshit excuse,'" she said, turning around to face him.

"Will you let me finish, goddamnit!" he lashed out.

"I'm not sure I want you to," she said.

"She said some things that got into my head and the next thing I know, she kissed me," he said and continued so as to not leave her room to breathe. "It felt good for a moment because all I had been thinking about was you."

"God… don't, just don't," she warned him.

"I'll tell you the truth. I have to," he said and sounded convincing.

"You don't owe me anything," she said, crossing her arms against her chest.

"Don't shut me out now. You asked for the truth, I'm doing my best not to screw this up," he said, pleading her.

"Okay, Harvey, what was it like fucking her?" she asked, harshly and added, feeling like she was torturing herself, "Tell me. How good did it make you feel?"

She almost regretted the way she'd said it. He didn't owe her anything. He had every right to be with someone else. He'd left. They weren't an item at the time.

 _I cheated on him because I felt lonely._

"She went down on me in the bathroom but I stopped it before I could…" Harvey felt it was best to remain as evasive as possible on the details and admitted. "And it's not like I didn't want to have sex with her. Hell! I would have fucked any girl from behind just to feel something, anything but empty."

' _Because unlike you, she's not ashamed of her insecurities._

He was giving her way too much information. She couldn't handle all of this. Four hours ago he was hers and now, she felt like she had been cheated on. But he hadn't. She couldn't hold him accountable for all the times she couldn't woman up and tell him how she felt.

"Cause the only face I wanted to see was yours," he said, approaching slowly.

She was torn between two thoughts: him fucking her this way and her running as far away from this place as possible.

"Show me," she said.

"What?" he said, stopping dead on his track.

"Show me how you wanted to fuck them. How you wish you could have fucked me that night," she said.

"This isn't how I wanted tonight to go," he said.

"I need to know," she said, walking to the nearest wall.

"This is ridiculous," he said, walking up to her.

"Fine," she said, turning to leave but he blocked her from moving the moment he realized what she was doing.

He circled her waist, pressed himself against her and breathed into her neck.

"You want to know how I felt," he said and kissed the crook of it. They remained like that a moment. She was asking him to freeze time and rewind to a time when he'd thought letting her go was the solution to her happiness. She didn't know. She couldn't have.

"I felt like I had lost the love of my life," he let out and began attacking her neck. She'd had no time to process his words that he began to roam his hands over her dress and her breasts. An arm's length away from the wall, palm flat against it, she took one of his hands and brought it under her dress. He groaned into her neck when he reached her panties. His hand felt the warmth of her. He couldn't keep it together and inserted his hand under the band. Her nether hair felt soft and wet. He enjoyed toying with her slit, feeling up the lips he wished he could kiss and suck on. She was wobbly and moaned with every touch.

He licked the top of her ear and gently bit it before saying, "Spread your legs."

She parted her legs more and felt him get in and rub her clit. She gasped at the sensation. He tilted his head even more to the side to nibble her earlobe. The ebb of his breathing tickled her ear.

He hiked her dress up, frantically with the hand he'd used to hold her steady and made her bend over. It turned her on even more. Her eyes glazed with lust, but he couldn't see her.

She felt his erection grow larger and harder with every friction of denim against her butt. He kept caressing her clit but he wouldn't put a finger inside her. She didn't want to be ready. She wanted him, rough and unprepared.

"Harvey, stop," she said, placing her hand where his working one was. "I want you, now."

She could tell he had unclasped the button on his jeans and almost felt release when she heard him shove them down. Of course she would always be too ready for him. His erection jutted out against her backside. The other woman wasn't too far from her mind but then, she wasn't the only woman he'd been with. Donna couldn't help but feel some form of remorse for what she was putting Harvey through. She'd certainly had her fair share of sex too and she'd kissed Mark. But this was him. This was her. And she was his.

She felt the sputter of need kick up again when he asked her to pull her panties down. She straightened up and began her task, slowly.

"Bend over," he added when she was done. He helped her roll her dress up at the waistband. She felt the head of his cock against her butt and jerked.

"Don't move," he panted, gripping the hem and lower part of her dress as if holding reins.

Harvey breathed in loud and traced her backside with his length.

He snugged his cock between the cheeks of her ass, using his head to torment her rosebud. She twitched some more and he said, "Stay still." Wide-eyed, Donna couldn't help but revel in this unexpected attention; rubbing it up and down until he slid his tense state between her thighs and felt it align along her entrance.

She had lost track of any coherent thoughts. They weren't Harvey and Donna. They were two flawed humans who'd desired to be close to the other for most of their adult lives. She could still picture them laughing, joking around and sending each other furtive glances here and there. But she wanted to feel – whatever that meant; feel years of distance between them crashing over her like a dream in disguise. The fantasies she'd allowed herself to come to; him being dominant, being her boss and taking her in his office. She'd thought about having him beg for her to part her legs. But this wasn't about her. This was about how he felt about her. And she couldn't wait to find out what leaving her had meant for him. She was the love of his life and it was all she'd needed to hear.

With his hand flat on her back, he pushed her forward grabbed his member quickly and thrust into her, filling her deeply.

"Fuck." She hissed air between clenched teeth, the painful sensation of invasion better by far than what she'd hoped. This was bliss, pure and unadulterated bliss. All of his pain, anger and desire for her encompassed in one fluid motion.

Holding her hip with one hand, he stroked her back almost reassuringly.

"Is this what you wanted?" he said, thrusting again.

"Yes," she whimpered, feeling her inner walls adjust to him.

She'd needed this physical connection to him. Her body demanded it. She pushed her hips back as he thrust, testing the feeling and found it amazing. She was filling herself with him. He was going faster and faster. Her skin was getting slick with sweat. He brushed damp hair back from her face and his hand found support on her shoulder.

His thrusts became fiercer and she couldn't follow. She was on the verge of completion; her arms were weak as were her legs. She was barely able to support herself against the wall.

Her mind went totally blank when she felt herself approaching a cliff. Her muscles tightened and her clitoris began to quiver. The fall came with a pulsating feeling, her body shook uncontrollably; down to her feet and up to her head, she felt all of the heat being sucked from her.

 _Like a waterfall in slow motion._

He was holding her tight, letting her ride out her orgasm. She felt her vagina pulsing as if a giant doze of muscle relaxers had been injected into her all at once.

He eased himself out of her, still hard.

She turned around and even though the light of the room was dim, she could tell he looked sad and fatigued. She lifted one hand, pushing it through his wet hair.

"You didn't…" she began and aligned her eyes with his.

"I wanted to see your face," he said.

She had to take his hand now or not at all.

"It's here." She began kissing him, tasting him and his reciprocation. Satisfied that his tongue had struggled with hers, she added: "It's right in front of you."

 _Like a map with no ocean._

She bent to her knees and he breathed loudly when she took his cock in her hand.

"You don't–" he panted, feeling her stroke him.

"I need to," she said, leaning forward. She engulfed the head in her mouth, licked lightly at the tip and eventually pushed her face down his penis.

She had to finish this because there would always be a limit to their love. She had dared and it was paying off. And this was her. This was him. And he was hers.

* * *

 **I hope this chapter won't have inconvenienced some of you. I had a great time writing this one. Can't believe how long it is. My beta said the chapter was heavy and the last scene bold I think, hot and yet twisted. I really hope you liked it and if you didn't, it's how I wanted them in this chapter. I hope you'll review this one because let's face it, I write for me but I write for you and your remarks / comments and feelings. Chapter 8 coming really soon.**

 **Last question before I leave this in your hands: where's that damn deer when you need it?**


	8. Chapter 8

The reason they'd ended up staring at each other – stark naked, on opposite sides of the living room at 3 in the morning felt like a fallacy.

Donna was seated on the couch while Harvey was right across from her.

"Hey you."

"Why did you ask me to do that?" he asked, and added, "I didn't want to."

The table acted as their only form of physical separation.

"Because I needed to know," she said, burying her face in her hands. There was no way she could prevent this now.

Through lack of proximity had emerged emotional detachment.

"You said that to me once and look how it ended."

Both had their legs crossed and Donna was trying to cover her breasts and intimacy as much as possible.

"Are you seriously bringing up your relationship with Paula now?" She was getting furious.

"You must have known I wanted to stay with you that night when you asked me to come in," he stated, unflappable.

He was bringing up a hurtful past and telling her a truth she hadn't allowed herself to hope for. He'd shredded her to pieces with that job offer, then shredded that letter of resignation and turned her friendship down for a moment. This was the tip of the iceberg because his admission was making her the culprit here; a descendant of Eve, the forbidden fruit male victims swallow.

"Are you saying I shouldn't have offered? You were in pain Harvey. I wasn't thinking about sex," she let out.

"Like you weren't, this is what you do," he said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, losing control.

"I'm saying you always seem to find a way to use my weakness for you against me." His face was flushed with annoyance.

"So you're saying this is all my fault?" she asked, not breaking eye contact with him.

"No. But you left me with no choice. You threatened to leave again," he explained.

"Harvey, I wasn't trying to manipulate you."

"It sure as hell looked like you were," he lashed out.

"You can't blame me for wanting answers."

"Maybe you could've asked me?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Wait a minute. Is this Harvey Specter? The man who took over thirteen years to call me the love of his life? The guy who won't even say he's in love with me!"

Harvey twitched, his backside scratching against leather.

"Didn't you… enjoy it?" she asked.

"I said thank you."

"And?" she pressed him further.

"Isn't the fact that I gave you control answer enough?"

"That's not what I asked," she said.

"You know the answer to that," he sighed, his palms covering each side of his face.

"I want you to spell it out for me." She was starting to feel like 'knowing' meant nothing to either of them at this point. Words didn't connect anymore; chaotic and versatile prose that didn't add up encompassed in this idea that she knew. Except, she just didn't. She wanted truths.

He observed her for a moment, uncrossing her legs and crossing them back again, allowing him a quick view of her lady parts. Her leg was swinging in one direction and back like a pendulum counting seconds. Silky white legs encouraged him to switch approaches before the shouting match ended with him sleeping on the couch again.

"Okay, you know what? It takes two to play this game," he began and stood up, full frontal and almost hard again. It was the first time she'd seen him like this since they'd pulled apart almost half an hour ago.

" _I want to feel you next to me. Let's go to bed," she'd said, standing up straight._

" _Thank you," he'd said, helping her up. "Just give me a minute."_

" _Okay." She'd followed him with her eyes. Then with her feet until she realized he was going to the bathroom._

 _After taking off her dress, she noticed the front door wide open and rushed to it, covering herself with her hands as much as she could to close it once and for all. Stopping by the kitchen sink, she washed her mouth and drank some water. Not hearing the shower running, nor the toilet being flushed made her panic. She'd felt trapped and had resolved on waiting for him. The glassy look in his eyes when he'd thanked her should have told her she'd gone too far._

 _She'd sat on the couch and turned the nearby lamp switch on, looking at the bathroom door fixedly. A never-ending sensation of time weighing on her. It had gone on and on until she could have sworn she'd seen something big passing by the window. Suddenly on edge, she almost hadn't heard Harvey come out of the bathroom hadn't it been for that alerting door clicking sound. She'd tilted her head to look at him. Bare naked and dark-eyed. She eyed him carefully; the view of soft cock and balls that had been in her mouth, hanging low and swinging in full view. His chest seemed so strong and almost hairless, contrasting fully with his new – at least new to her, facial scruff._

 _The sight in front of her brought her core into focus again – giving her an inexplicable awareness of her desire for him – even though she felt her stocks of orgasm were seriously depleted._

 _Seeing him walk towards her had given her a better view of his face. Sadly, when he'd changed direction she understood. He'd sat on the armchair opposite the table. Those weren't the eyes of a man who'd wanted to be near her; but the angry and angst-ridden kind seeking confrontation._

 _TMT_

 _TMT_

 **Too Many Times**

 _Suits / Donna x Harvey (darvey)_

 **Chapter 8 –** When the words become you

 _When the words become you_

 _When all you've ever said_

 _Is it all that, all that will remain_

 _Is it all that, all that you've been hoping, hoping for?_

 _ **Veka – Zola Jesus**_

 _TMT_

 _TMT_

Harvey walked rapidly to the couch and bent to his knees once he was in front of her.

"Harvey, what are you–" she gasped, seeing him uncross her legs and part them slowly. He placed her right leg on top of his left shoulder and did the same thing with her other leg. Her knees now cradling his head, she seized the front of the couch instinctively. She tilted her head up to watch him.

"Let me do this for me," he began, pleading into her eyes; a soft please escaping his lips.

She gave a bob of the head, gulping.

He was closing up on her entrance, stubble scraping her inner thighs. He put his hands on her hips to keep her steady. She felt his nose first, inducing a knee jerk on both legs. She hadn't really had time to invite this but it felt oddly right.

Harvey hadn't really been thinking this through but he was gunning for payback. He regretted starting up that argument the moment he had but he hadn't been able to stop. How would he find himself if he didn't find her? He had to find her that night at the bar. She was never there.

Instead of continuing being mad at her for reasons that were stuck in hearts, minds and time, he'd settled for creating the impossible: a new fantasy. Scratching the past and starting anew, recreating that bathroom scene in a new setting with the only woman he wanted.

"Harvey, I thought you were mad…" she whimpered when she felt his nose rest above her mound and his lips press against her narrow opening. He breathed in strong and groaned when he felt her legs squeeze his head tight. His eyes shot open.

Mental pictures of the attention she'd paid to his penis flooded back into her brain. The feel of his lips against her groin as he'd pulled her inside into a still lip lock, reminded her of the way she'd kissed the tip of his cock. She wanted nothing but to part her legs and feel him really kissing her. Dizziness swept through her head and her legs became loose. She was unable to fight against his head and the weight of it pressed into the furrow between her thighs. Her legs fell on his back and she relaxed into his grip. He parted them, leaving enough space for him to breathe accordingly. He eventually darted the tip of his tongue against the curls on her walls, sliding up and down the length of her smooth labia.

She was feeling pleasure but she was certain he knew she wouldn't be able to come again.

"You're an ass," she said barely above a whisper, head tilted back and eyes closed.

A minute ago he'd been bringing up his ex, and then calling her out on her so-called manipulation. Maybe he was right. Maybe some twisted part of her brain had wanted him to feel that pain of losing her so that she could feel the one she'd suffered _through_ him. And feel relief. But the minute had passed and he was there, searching and finding her again. Tickling and inflicting small pain with his beard as it grazed against her sensitive spot while that skillful tongue of his acted as medicine. She was enjoying this way too much for her sanity to be even remotely viable. The neck ache in the morning she would probably not enjoy as much.

His eyes roamed her body, lingering on her chest. He'd remained outwardly restrained by not licking her clit until now but his fantasy wouldn't be complete if he didn't tease her more. No matter the outcome, he didn't have the intention of stroking himself nor to speed up the process. Calculating her moves and reactions like a predator, he placed his left hand on one of her breasts, kneading it gently. He was taking her there and he could feel it in his member. She couldn't have known what was coming.

He let go of her breast to stop her from running a hand through his hair.

"Why don't you want me to…" she began and noticed him catching his breath once more, parting her legs further apart and opened his mouth on her, covering her mound and clitoris. The intensity of his suction caught her off guard, making her grip the back of the couch almost instantly. The scent of her and being finally able to taste her fully – taste where he had been – he realized this was where he should have nestled all along. Seeing her arch her back, he grinned internally and felt himself coming at the fact that her arousal was back on track.

"Harvey," she moaned his name and then lost the feel of his head against her core. He let go of one of her legs as a loud groan escaped his mouth followed by several moans. His tongue didn't ache enough to ruin this moment so he dug right back in. He was riding his own orgasm, pulsating fast while still licking her slowly and gradually. The contrast between him and her was a torture to Donna. He hadn't let her touch him or help him.

He remembered how she'd slipped down on him, sucked his cock into her mouth and down her throat. That back and forth movement, similar to that of his tongue, had been as hot as the one between them – an insane temptation. Paramount and permanent. And he had wanted nothing but to touch her at that moment.

She suddenly felt the sucker-like drawing sensation of his mouth disappear. Having him adhere tightly to her velvet skin for so long, succumbing to something other than his stiffened cock and finding gratification with his facial hair, she felt like she'd gone from crescendo to piano in a matter of seconds. She was feeling as if he'd left her again.

And then he let go, watching her other leg go loose. Beauty, sex appeal and need all rolled into one – the perfect combination for his self-seeking state of mind.

His gaze dropped to his member. He felt his dick throb, gripped the tip of it with his hand, securing the sperm that was spurting out against his palm. He closed his eyes, riveting himself in his need of her. Thinking of her. Always thinking of her.

The corners of his lips turned up in amusement. Sexy. He was so damn sexy. Donna thought he would stop here and leave her hanging. She hadn't been able to watch him, her legs and the couch blocking her view of his lower body. She would have wanted nothing more but to observe him.

"It takes two to play this game, right?" she asked, shaking her head at her disillusionment. She knew this was coming – this trickery, and yet she couldn't believe it; stooping this low.

"Who am I, Donna?" he asked, playing with his fingers.

"I don't know… A sadist?" She was only half-joking. She knew she'd deserved part of this. But she couldn't fathom what would happen to them now. Was that it? Was sex between them toxic? Would she ever feel release?

"I'm the man who made you come again… and again," he said and crawled on top of her like a snake. He then moved his hand to grab a fistful of her hair gently before kissing her tantalizingly. Small kisses here and there. She suddenly felt him place his slick fingers against her clit, leaving her no choice but to thrust her hips up to them. He was rubbing her center hard and fast, making her come alive again. That wasn't just it. He was sharing it all again. With her. For her. For them.

"…and again," he finished, feeling her quiver beneath him.

* * *

They lay nestled together, her backside warm against the bottom of his belly. Cooped up on the couch, his arms wrapped around her frame, Donna was tracing incoherent forms on his forearm with her index finger. No blanket; it was just them and the feel of him breathing down her neck to warm her up; she hadn't felt this complete ever before.

"You smell awful," he said, inhaling her neck.

"I think you're kinda responsible for that," she chuckled.

"You didn't say _I_ smell."

"That's because it's a given, Harvey."

He nuzzled his nose behind her ear, smelled her and said: "I love the way you smell."

"I know you do."

He parted her hair gently to the side and kissed the nape of her neck. Nothing about this was teasing or provocative. They were both so tired that she hadn't over analyzed the affectionate bodily contact. She didn't think he had either. This display of affection had come as a surprise after the way he'd taken care of his needs – and eventually hers. They'd had another fight. And they all seemed to end up with them having sex. It wasn't healthy to start a relationship like this. A relationship…was it?

"Are we friends, Donna?" he asked, and she darted her eyes open.

She was speechless. Literally incapable of answering such a question for everything that they had shared in all the years they had known each other was supported by this very foundation.

"Why are you asking me that? You know we are," she said.

"It doesn't look like we've been acting like friends toward each other since you came here, that's all."

"Well, you can't keep your hands off me, so…"

"That's not what I meant," he sighed.

"Okay," she spoke as she turned to face him on the couch – feeling too tall, too clumsy, too tired and too out of touch with reality to look sexy in doing so.

"Okay?" he asked, watching her look kind of ridiculous. He realized how he'd missed her face instantly and felt as if his world – a world map freckled with insights into his soul and brown eyes that could pierce his own were looking graciously back at him. Watching over him – probably ready to frown upon him but he didn't care.

Meeting him halfway and rubbing briefly against him, she said, "Sorry."

"No worries." His expression lines around his eyes smiled for him. They stared into each other's eyes a moment, the both of them expecting her next words it seemed.

Bending her arms to rest her palms on his pecs, she repeated: "Okay… it doesn't seem like we have been feeling close to each other in that way."

He wrapped his arms around her again and held her tight. "I've had sex before…"

"Wait, aren't you a virgin?" she joked, feigning worry. This conversation was becoming very personal and she didn't think she had the emotional strength to handle it and bear its consequences.

He was trying his best to hold back a smile and asked: "will you let me finish?"

"Okay, Mr. Specter. Finish please."

"I've had sex before but this has been something else entirely."

"It has," she concurred, blushing. Not too red and still freckled, her face spoke that butterfly language to him.

"There's something I've been meaning to ask you," he said, the tone of his voice sounded like he was about to take a leap of faith.

"What is it?" she asked, eagerly, searching his eyes. She could tell he was hesitant to speak his mind. And then he opened his mouth.

"Are you still on the pill?" he asked, looking unmoved.

This came quite as a shock to her. Her heart had been sort of racing for the past minute. She was million miles away from thinking about contraceptive methods. She could have been using a diaphragm all those years. Had he been that observant?

"Yes, Harvey, I'm not old enough not to risk getting pregnant yet," she sighed at being reminded of her age, even though he had the right to know since they'd had unprotected sex two times over the span of eight hours. Three times if Harvey's fingering technicality were to count as intercourse.

"I never would have let you do what you did hadn't I been," she stated, and added, "I would've never put you in this position."

"Donna… I'm not saying… I'm just," he began, but he felt like a fool for even bringing it up.

"And that really confirms that this is _not_ what you wanted to ask. Because you trust me – you've always trusted me enough not to ask."

He licked his lips, his tongue sticking out slightly and took a deep breath.

"I trust you," he stressed before dropping his eyes to hers again, "and this is not what I wanted to ask. I'm sorry. I guess…"

"What?" she asked, hopeful.

"Never mind, it's late. We should get some sleep," he said.

She would have to roll him like he was dice until he'd fall on that beautiful six. She should take comfort in the fact that this entire night had been a five. It was a painful side – close to perfection and yet it felt as if she were unable to win.

She watched him close his eyes and took this opportunity to turn the nearby lamp switch off.

She let it go. She wanted them to enjoy each other's embrace. She wanted sleep.

He didn't want to let it go. He wanted to tell her. But he never wanted to have to move forward.

"Harvey?" she asked, eyes still opened, running a hand through his hair, soothingly.

"Hmm?" he asked, eyes still closed.

"I love how you smell too."

* * *

He hadn't woken up this late in ages. He didn't need a watch to know the time because the sun coming through the window reminded him of his teenage years when he'd wake up after noon. Last night had left him tired and aching. He was about to stretch out his limbs when he felt her right where he had left her; spooned against him. It wasn't like the other time. He was able to look at her without a care in the world. He might never be enough but she was to him, secured in his arms and sound asleep. The sun was as high in the sky as his heart that was beating through the roof. A sexy purr left her voice.

"Hey there," he said, rubbing his neck.

"My arm's fallen asleep," she yawned, and sat up straight to wake it up. He found it cute how the piercing light of day was enhancing her blinking.

"Hey there," he repeated, repositioning himself too.

"Hey," she began, smiling but reverted to grimacing in a matter of milliseconds, "I'm sorry it's just ugh…shit, it's coming… the tingling… pins and needles, pins and needles!"

"What can I do?" he asked, stroking her back.

"Stop touching me," she practically shouted.

"Okay." He removed his hand instantly.

He kept staring at her, watching her expertly trying to bring blood flow back to her arm.

The pain eventually subsided and she said, "I _hate_ it when that happens."

"I could see that," he said, and tried one last time, "Hey."

"Hey," she said, biting her bottom lip, finally able to enjoy having woken up next to him and she could tell he wanted to kiss her. Maybe he was waiting for her to – it felt strange.

"What time is it?" she said, breaking the awkward moment.

"A little after noon," he said.

"And what incredible paranormal force allows you to tell time now?" she raised an eyebrow.

He chuckled, got up and walked his glorious ass away from her and went to point at the clock above the front door.

She pulled a face and wondered how in hell she had missed that clock this entire time. Easy, she'd been too focused on what was right in front of her.

"God, I need a shower," she said, standing up and heading for the bathroom.

"I'll join you," he said, rubbing his neck.

She was taken aback by his tone. It sounded natural, felt intimate to her ears and yet deprived of sexual undertones. But, God, how sexy he looked rubbing his neck like that.

"Back off, Mister! This is _me_ time," she said, sounding as if she were on the lookout. Before closing the door behind her, she stressed: "You can take one – another one, _after_ _me_."

Harvey stared at that closed door. The redhead had escaped his eyesight one more time; one too many times. He walked up to the door and remembered he hadn't heard her lock it. The shower was running and he hesitated for a moment, his hand gripping the handle.

She had stepped into the shower, toes flinching from the cold ceramic floor. She had turned the shower on and tested the water dripping by her side. Once she'd adjusted the shower knob to a comfortable temperature, she positioned the shower head over her.

She heard the shower curtain being ripped back and barely flinched.

The water was dripping down her hair and defining her fit body, the side of her breasts with rivulets streaming down her shoulders and back. Her classic red hair had turned dark auburn and she looked regal, binding him to her combustible temperament, wicked sense of humor, wits and her kindness.

"Are you sure you're gonna be able to keep your hands to yourself?" Her mind was swirling at the possibilities and against her better judgment.

"My hands no," he said, far from disappointed at the way she'd welcomed him.

He placed his hands over her stomach. These hands could hold her anytime. She didn't care what sore muscles told her.

"But I don't think that thing between your legs is going to cooperate," she said, sensing him step closer behind her.

She tensed up, feeling him pressing up against her. "Harvey…"

"Relax," he said. She became engrossed in the feeling of his hand gliding over her water slick body. Her body did relax as he began massaging cramped up muscles.

She heard him take something and squeeze it. She assumed he was putting soap in his hands. Donna was sure he was going to try something. She was expecting his touch and his hands roaming all over her body. She hadn't closed that door completely to begin with.

"Turn around," he said and she blushed some more before doing so. Her eyes rose up to meet his and she burst out laughing.

Harvey Goddamn Specter was glowing. He had put soap all over his jaw, covering his scruff.

"What? Aren't we in here to clean ourselves up?" he asked, grinning like an idiot.

"And you wish to start with that?" she asked, unable to get over the sight before her.

"Well, this part of my body was very active last night if I remember correctly."

"Come on, get under that shower spray," she said, stepping back until she hit the hot knob.

She winced in pain and his concerned eyes flashed down to her. "Careful," he said, putting his hand where she'd burnt herself.

"I'm okay," she began and added, snobbishly, "You have a small shower."

"For some reason, I'm kinda glad it is," he smiled, tilting his head back to enjoy the water's perfect pressure hitting his face.

"For some reason…" she raised a brow. Soap was cascading down his neck and falling to his chest. She placed her hands on his shoulders, soaking her hand in soap and began massaging them.

"You're quite the man, Harvey Specter," she said, staring at his chest.

"And you realize that now, Donna Paulsen?" It was his turn to raise a brow, his two moles standing out.

"I didn't say you were perfect." She couldn't help but stare at these moles. These she could call perfection.

He pretended to muse over this and said: "Didn't you?"

"It's not a secret that you're attractive," she detailed.

"I'm glad you're finally able to accept the truth," he smirked.

"I suppose this soap is both soap and shampoo," she said.

"It is."

"Typical," she sighed and said, "Give me some."

He looked surprised and got the soap-slash-shampoo for her, squeezing some in her hand.

She put her hands in his hair and began massaging his scalp.

"Why are you taking such good care of me?" he asked, closing his eyes to the feeling of her soothing fingers while the thick warm steam completed the pleasurable interaction.

"Because that's what I do," she said.

He grabbed one of her wrists, stopping her appeasing movements and said: "I never deserved this."

She sighed and said: "Never stopped me from trying to make you see that you do."

This inevitably led him to search her lips with his eyes and pull her into a kiss. She moaned into his mouth and opened it wide over his as if seeking his own air to breathe, the wet facial hair surrounding his lips scraping her less than usual. She was willing to endure any pain just to have him kiss her like that again. Their chests were so glued together that water couldn't permeate. Saliva mixing with water and the remaining taste of soap made her want to cave and let him do whatever he wanted to her. He was stealing protective walls and years of service to him away from her. He was thanking her and it tugged at her heart to remember that he didn't think he deserved the world. Everything that ensued was her own doing, she cupped his face on each side and battled her tongue with his, showing him just where she'd always been meaning to go to help him. Her mouth flickered over his until they began panting against each other's lips. Slowly, their soft lips and tongues started relaxing. And there she felt it; he'd whimpered into her mouth. With some difficulty, she opened her eyes to follow his closed ones and watched him press his lips against her one last time, a small smacking sound signaling a tender – albeit too soon, ending.

Her right hand never let go of his cheek. She stroked it, searching his eyes. He looked like he'd cried; harboring the cruelest look there could be in someone's eyes. The water running would have hidden it well to anyone else. But not to her; she'd felt it. He was terrified.

"Harvey–" she began but he cut her off.

"I hope you're hungry," he said, watching her hand in his and added: "take your time."

He left her half cleansed and equally terrified. They'd become their own words to each other, cryptic and unequivocally meaningless so long as they didn't admit everything. She had to leave that bubble of steam and tell him she would stay if he'd ask her to. She would quit her job for him; for all she's ever wanted was to take care of him and for him to do the same.

* * *

 _TMT_

 _TMT_

 **I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I changed the rules of form a bit. It was done on purpose and it was supposed to throw you off. ;) I'm really looking forward to your reviews. I'm gonna start working on chapter 9 tomorrow so, please send me your thoughts on this. As usual, it will speed up the process because your expectations fuel ours and the writing that goes with it. See ya!**

 **Addendum: I'm repeating myself when I say we breathe for those but don't hesitate to congratulate my beta AlternateShadesofBlue on her hard labor too. This is my fic but this is a collective effort. Go read her fics too, she's the best.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Too Many Times**

 _Suits / Donna x Harvey (darvey)_

 **Chapter 9 –** We are where the wilderness meets the white

 _We are where the wilderness meets the white_

 _And that's alright_

 _Oh, you are the translucent amber_

 _Unsung and so misunderstood_

 _Yes, you are the translucent amber_

 _In a sea of ceylon cedar wood_

 _ **Translucent Amber – Mountains of the Moon**_

* * *

None of them could have known who she could've been so long ago; who she would have been. For thirteen years and fifty-two seasons she had been everything to him. All those people who had walked past her cubicle, all in a rush, never could have seen her the way he had. At times she was under him, above him – in every way possible – and on the worst days, he wasn't by her side. On the worst days he'd get mad at something she'd done; she'd pulled all-nighters just to make it up to him. She could do wrong; no one can do no wrong. But whatever the wrong, he didn't care because she was the one doing it. Donna, out of loyalty to him, out of care for him and despite the seeds of labor that had brought them together in the first place, didn't give a shit about doing wrong if it meant she could keep him by her side. That was how well he knew her. He didn't deserve her. He knew he'd made it up to her too – every goddamn time because there was no other way. There could be no other way. But all that had remained unrevealed, all that had them be together without being together was tantamount to that Lebanese cedar tree; or the truth hidden in plain sight only to them.

Love. Love buried once in piles of files and now in rows of pines. He'd felt it in her kiss before but not like this. She's been in love with him this whole time too – and he'd cried. Losing his dad, making up with his mother and the beating he felt in his chest had made him see through the fog that had been covering his heart for so long. She was it. He'd ruined it all for them. So how could he not ruin it now?

Cooking – or what seemed like cooking wasn't helping him forget what had just happened. The conversation he'd had with his mother last night had triggered thoughts he hadn't dared venture into before.

 _What about Dad, huh? Don't you think he was ashamed of the way he'd treated you?_

His mother's infidelity wasn't the first thing that had come to his mind. His dad's inability to make their marriage work was. Music had been his life and he couldn't help but go on tour. As if music had decided for him how his relationship with Lily would end. She'd picked up on that instantly as if she had been waiting for him to acknowledge that side of his parents' relationship.

 _I didn't cheat on him because he went away on tour, Harvey. I cheated on him because I felt lonely._

Leaving or being apart, staying or being close as if the stars couldn't align and dots couldn't connect. They'd stayed for the other while being apart and he'd left her and fate had decided to bring her closer in the end. Harvey's choice to leave – to stop practicing law – never felt like a choice, it was a decision. It was a decision to cheat himself, to see who he could have been without her. For the first time in months he wanted to shave.

His phone chimed and vibrated, he checked who was calling – Mom.

He swiped over the caller's ID and put the phone against his ear.

"Hey Mom," he answered.

"Harvey, honey, how's everything? I tried calling you a couple of times–"

"Yeah, the ringtone wasn't on," he said and added, "I just woke up anyway." He felt like he should have said 'we'. Knowing his mother, she would be able to tell something was wrong. He didn't leave her time to say anything else and continued, "What can I help you with?"

He was certain this would throw her off.

"Well… remember that New York art gallery's offer?" As if two days with Donna could have made him forget that. Actually, it had but he remembered talking to his mother about that Tom Bennett guy.

"Yeah, I remember," he said.

"You were right. Turns out I got a better deal today at an auction house with a higher bid than the sum Tom offered…" It seemed she wanted him to finish that sentence.

"But you entered an oral contract with him and you don't know if you can get out of it," he sighed.

"Do I risk having him file suit against me?" she asked.

"Yes…No, I don't know… I… Send me his number, I'll take care of this," he said.

"Okay…" his mother said softly – uncertainty clear in her voice.

He felt a hand rest on his waist. Donna put her arms around him gently. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of her close to him again.

"Hey," she whispered in his ear, her breath tickling it in a way that set all his troubles aside.

"Gotta go, Mom," he said.

"Thank you, Harvey." Donna could hear his mom over the phone.

Donna kissed his neck. "Say hi to your mom for me."

"Donna says hi." He felt the remnants of cold water cooling the desire her close proximity had generated.

"Say hi to her too!" Lily said, excited.

"She says hi too." He tilted his head to the side, losing the touch of her nose against his neck.

"I heard her." Donna laughed against the muscles of his back.

"Okay, bye, Mom." He put the phone on the island counter, then turned around and put his arms around her, pulling her close. "Hey."

His heart stopped seeing her wear his grey towel. She looked so damn sexy, brown eyes, wet raven hair and fair skin. He felt like the happiest man alive when she graced him with the sight of her.

"Hey," she said back, smiling.

"We sound like two idiots, don't we?" he said, practically swaying with her.

"Well, it's not like we weren't having a shower together twenty minutes ago," She kissed the left side of his scruff, soothingly.

"With me pulling stupid faces." He laughed nervously, trying not to focus on how it ended.

"Massaging me divinely." She pulled away, bit her lip and brought that brown color back into his eyes.

"Yeah, I liked that," he said.

He hadn't brought up his impromptu disappearance and the conversation with his mother so she took a moment to enjoy the sight of him. He'd had time to dress up, looking amazing as usual in a V-neck, long sleeve black t-shirt and a pair of dark blue jeans.

She put her hands in each pocket and raised a brow. "Only liked?"

"Are you asking me how I really felt?" he asked, mimicking her facial expression.

She nodded and hummed in approval. This could go either way.

"I don't think you want to hear about that friction rash between my thighs, do you?"

He scratched his scruff, feeling the pull of a smirk starting. "Okay, you know that terrifying face you make when you come…" he began, and saw her face turn red at the thought.

"Oh God!" she said and he laughed before continuing.

"That's the face I wanted to pull." And he started imitating her and she couldn't take it anymore.

"I remember distinctly that I didn't shout your name!" She pouted, hitting his shoulder. He didn't even shout 'ouch' – was this man insensitive to pain? Well with shoulders like that…

"You called me God or something. It's the same thing really," he said.

"God gave me this body," she teased.

He pretended to muse over it. "Thought it was your parents…"

"Only I and he-almighty control it."

"No, he doesn't." The smug on his face was another challenge she was ready to take.

"Well, that leaves me." She pressed her lips into a flirtatious smile.

"And me." He pulled her close again, gently. His eyes were transfixed with amazement.

"What about my control?" Her eyes fell to his lips. Audacious to the end and back, Donna had just got the answer she wanted; and she wasn't going to let it go. She gently bit his bottom lip, tugging at it slightly before tracing his front teeth with her tongue.

He moaned into her mouth, sucking on her lips and tongue as much as he could. "I thought… we'd… just discussed… that."

And another answer.

She pulled away and hesitated for a moment before saying: "No, this?" She pointed her finger at him and then back to him and then moved both of her hands apart, palms facing toward him in a very God-like pose, she conclude: "This is control, counselor."

She bit the inside of her cheek and he felt his dick jerk.

The ex-lawyer had been brought back to life for a moment and he seemed to be having a hard time composing himself. She couldn't help but smirk and make a sultry gesture. She brought her index finger to her mouth and played with it; tugging on it, biting and sucking.

She was eliciting one single response from him – sex – and he couldn't let her win. Harvey moved away from her and started putting on a show. "What's that?" he asked, furrowing a brow.

He placed the palm of his hand against his ear. "I can't seem to hear you from all the way over on my side of the kitchen."

"You're blushing now," she mocked him. "Did something happen?"

"Fine, you win, I'm under your spell." He rolled his eyes.

"You mean under your Donna."

"I'm the only one who's been on top so far." He shrugged.

"Dreams come true, Harvey." She took a dramatic stance. "Always."

He narrowed his eyes, hesitant to speak from fear they would never eat. But, feeling cocky, she gave new impetus to their conversation: "So! What's cooking?"

"Cajun Stuffed chicken." He was staring anywhere as long as it was between her neckline and under her eyes.

"I knew you could make a salad but this is…"

"Cooking," he said.

"Yes, cooking," she said and saw him pull up a chair for her.

"Harvey?"

"Yeah?"

"Not that I don't like spending time naked with you but I have to blow-dry my hair and dress up first." She kissed his cheek and retreating to the bedroom.

Wearing a towel, hair still wet, she sighed in relief after having spent at least 25 minutes in that shower wondering how she would approach their next interaction. She'd heard the conversation between him and his mother. He seemed lost over something that had to do with an oral contract. He looked disconcerted and frustrated. She wasn't proud of the fact that she'd planned this sexy diversion. She wasn't happy about the idea of tiptoeing around him. But the end had justified the means. He'd looked carefree for a moment; confident in his manhood, happily pissed off at the idea that she'd always owned him and commenting on food. She'd anticipated his need to not discuss the kiss and the reaction that had ensued – she'd put him first it seemed, again.

* * *

Harvey heard the blow-dryer die down through the still-open bedroom door. Chills coursed up and down his limbs like wind blowing through leaves. He switched the blaze to low on the stove, to keep the chicken heated. He wanted to see her. The need was stronger than him. He'd been given the possibility of revisiting a little boy's fantasy. He licked his lips a few times before taking a leap into her privacy.

He walked to the half-open door, secured the edge of the frame in his grasp and set his gaze on her; she'd already taken off her towel, gracing him with her curves. His line of sight had crashed into her silhouette, ardent and brutal.

Everything about her back was distinguishable. Her hair had returned to its fiery red copper shade plunging over her shoulder, hiding her most visible freckles from view. He'd memorized them – last night photographed in his mind as if he were glued to her backside, stuck in mixed sweat all over again.

Tied up and twisted against her, feeling her curves without the ability to appreciate them, he'd caved. He'd finally allowed himself that chance; pushing boundaries – fulfilling his voyeuristic tendencies.

"Thinking about opening a nudist retreat?" she asked.

"No," he laughed – surprised at her question.

"Then let me put something on, will you?"

"I just want to watch you dress," he said, softly.

This had taken her by surprise too. She'd felt that rugged heat in his voice and it had stirred many things inside of her. He could still make her blush and the thought of him having so much control had made her feel like an animal surviving on instincts. And her instincts were telling her to stop feeling lusted after and just do.

He thought she would counter with witty repartee but she never did. Instead she'd turned her head, her eyes moving slowly from the bottom floor to meet his. He gulped at the way she'd reacted. Donna – queen of her sex – Paulsen had just given him the most mischievous of smiles there was.

He was breathing hard, watching her move about the room to pick up her things. The world could keep its supermodels, he didn't care. He remembered how she'd put on a little bit of weight at times, her breasts evolving with each pound – making them bigger and fuller; and each time, her V-neck dresses could confirm the stiffness in his pants. And then she would lose weight again, probably over something he'd done and stayed just as radiant. No matter her change in appearance, her breasts, sitting lower, less close together and more natural without lingerie would always be a sight to be seen. Her center wasn't out of focus; it was just never something he could admire under textile – her legs though always seemed to pull him back to reality. Dream of, yes. And dreamed of it, he had.

She went through her suitcase and picked up a pair of panties and flashed them before him, teasingly, hooked a finger under the lace, letting it dangle in front of him, deliberate and hypnotic. Her breasts were dancing slowly for his pants again; for his eyes alone and for his freedom quest.

"Don't go too fast," he said.

It didn't feel like an order but more like a request. She was ready to say something about him having to take care of her if she caught a cold but decided not to and enjoyed his burning stare a little longer instead. She returned to her initial position, neither covering her breasts nor her sex.

Never leaving the threshold of the door, he watched her put her panties on, slipping each leg in slowly. He wouldn't dare touch himself. This reverse peep show was too close to his heart to just finish it with one stroke. Her underwear fit her figure snugly and he could barely contain himself when she bent forward slightly, tucked her fingers into them and pulled them out of her slit.

Least to say he was all wound up and no king to his castle.

She picked up the matching nude-lace bra that was on the bed and put it on a little more quickly this time – the image of her breasts disappearing into the fabric as if they'd slipped out of his hands. The muscles of her back tensed up in an abrupt fashion when she asked him to get her the pair of jeans that was in the suitcase; getting him out of his reverie and bringing his feet back on solid ground.

He'd never wanted to intrude more than he already had. He went to get the jeans and handed them to her. He averted his eyes then, feeling so close.

"Put them on the floor and leave room for me to insert my feet," she said.

"I never thought you'd let dirty wood soil your clothes," he said, surprised at her request.

"Tight fitting denim, Harvey. Not a fashion show."

He smirked and bit his bottom lip, squatting behind her – touching her ass, thighs and legs with his eyes, and placed the pair in front of her feet, flat with two perfect holes for her to walk over.

She put her feet in them and waited. But he hadn't moved an inch. She was the lead in this – the beacon to follow and obey.

"Are you gonna help me or not?" she asked.

He gripped two handfuls of fabric and began pulling them up unevenly – struggling and using strength, trying to squeeze her into them – while scraping for what was left of exposed skin.

Nudity had never felt so soft against his knuckles. She was helping him though, laughing and shimmying her way into a pair she knew fit.

"I thought this would look sexier," he said.

"Thanks for ruining the moment, Harvey."

"Stop fidgeting," he continued, wrestling with her hips.

"Stop talking," she said and he groaned instead.

He got up and reached the limit between her hips and waist and gave it one last yank.

She'd assimilated this feeling of intimacy ruled by laughter and tenderness. Switching from one to the other was easy. She felt his arms circle her waist and couldn't help but lean into the crook of his neck, sprawling her arms around his head when he began the task of buttoning them.

He wanted to suck on her ear. He wanted to touch her. But he was the most gentlemanly voyeur – the man who once sat for hours staring at her cubicle, glancing furtively at her body when he thought she wasn't looking.

Having no choice but to put his palm against her belly for support, he slowly pulled the zipper up, wanting nothing but to drag it back down again.

He left her arms and searched for a top of his choosing. She waited anxiously, biting her index finger in the process, teeth showing as she lay in wait for the pain of having to put that last piece of clothing on.

He went for a thin black long sleeve V-Neck sweater and walked back behind her.

"Turn around," he said and she complied.

Looking at her adoringly, he placed the opening above her head and guided it down her contours. He gathered one of the sleeves, gripping the hem, then grasped the fingers of her right hand, leading them into the hole. He repeated that with the other sweater sleeve, battling her hand and arm until it slipped right on her. As if her bra wasn't enough, the tight fabric nudging her breast-line protruded her femininity. How he'd come so far without retracing his steps and undoing everything, he didn't know.

"Want to finish this?" She searched his eyes with a devilish look in hers. He tilted his head back to meet them and grabbed the hem of her sweater and gently pulled it the rest of the way down; his fingers idling and yet barely brushing against her skin. His eyes had never left hers.

This was an awakening; like an explosion coursing through her veins and building a frantic heart rhythm. He had been willing to stand there observing her covering her birthday suit. She felt like she was torturing him backwards, donning her armor shield back on and leaving him without the satisfaction of seeing her naked form and remaining vulnerable to him. But she'd felt in jeopardy before; in her dresses, in her clothes in general – every goddamn time she was beside him. Like he could see through her all the time, ramming her brains out without touching her; and it distraught her to think he wanted to record the details of her routine – sealing it in the archives of his mind. She'd never felt more naked than in this instant nor this complete.

"There… warm enough so that you don't catch a cold." He kissed her lips softly, lingering enough to thank her before taking her hand and leading her out of the bedroom.

He'd just made love to her – in his own messy way and rewriting things backwards.

* * *

They had monsters in their closets for sure and those could lead to make it or break it outcomes. But Donna didn't feel like going through stuffing herself with chicken without bringing up his conversation with his mother.

"What did your mother want?" she asked, before taking a mouth full of well-needed calories.

"There's this guy who made her an offer about one of her paintings in New York. I told her to wait to get a better offer and she got one from an auction house. But she entered an oral contract with him and she's afraid he'll sue if she goes with the auction house."

"Can he?"

"It depends, I know my mother's side of the story. I just don't know this guy's yet," he said, running a hand through his hair.

"You don't need to know this guy's story, Harvey."

"Have you ever practiced law before?"

He was suddenly jumping at her throat. She'd wanted to avoid verbal jousts until now. But it didn't seem like he could.

"Where's this coming from?"

"I'm sorry." He averted his eyes, "I'm just not in the mood."

She'd sensed an opening and she didn't think they would be able to resolve their issues if this one wasn't out of the way. "Then tear up that contract you have with Zane because it doesn't look like you're capable of giving legal advice anymore. Just be done with it all."

"What did you just say to me? Just because I haven't been practicing–" he began but she cut him off instantly.

"What about fraud, Harvey?" she pressed.

"What about it? Yes, Statute of Frauds apply to verbal contracts but I don't think-"

"Stop trying to avoid this," she interrupted him again.

"That's enough!" he said, loudly, standing up and heading for the sink.

"This isn't about you not knowing the answer." She searched his eyes, "This is about me being here, enabling you to think like a lawyer."

He turned around and practically yelled: "Why is this so important to you?"

"This was our life, Harvey!" she let out and thumped on the table. She let her outburst subside, trying to analyze his own. It was danger zone but she was willing to take that risk.

"And whether you like it or not, you can't ask me not to care about this part of you," she paused and added more softly, "of us."

But he knew that answer already. It was their ritual.

"Donna," he began, sounding like he was about to reprimand her.

"Do you even miss the office?" she continued asking. "Was this about Mike leaving? Was your decision to leave about Zane being on the brink of taking over the firm?"

"I missed _you_ ," he shouted, his guts twisting in a thousand infinity symbols.

"I missed you too, Harvey but that's not the point."

It seemed as if his relationship with her had been put on trial. He was unstoppable, delivering a closing argument to a jury consisting of emotionless clones of himself and under the observant eye of Judge Goddamn Paulsen. Could he have a sidebar?

"Not in the way that I did. You don't understand. I want you like this. I don't want to use you. I don't want my secretary or my COO."

"I'm _the firm_ 's COO, Harvey," she stressed.

"This isn't what I meant and you know it." He shook his head.

"I know. But the fact that you said it explains why you don't want my advice anymore."

"Okay, so, I don't want your advice on legal matters. What does it say about me?"

"That you feel guilty over something and I can't figure out what it is." She left her chair. "I need to take a walk. Thanks for lunch."

He eyed her from the corner of his eyes, heading for the bedroom. She came back moment later, shoes on and ready to walk out on him.

She didn't close the front door and didn't look back. He saw her turn left, passing right by the kitchen window. He followed her trajectory in his mind and ran to his bedroom. She was going to the clearing.

* * *

There were no butterflies in her stomach. Only those dancing around each other in the center of the clearing, preoccupied above the tall grass. The air seemed fiercely hot – but her temper had prevailed over the sun. The morning's physical heat was gone; their argument had her engrossed in thought. He wouldn't take her hand; he wouldn't share what was on his mind with her. He could call her Donna this and Donna that, it would never be enough.

Was this the life _Donna_ wanted? A holy celebration of sex between herself and her former employer? She could hear him of course; calling her name over and over. _Donna_. Why would he want to open up to _Donna_ now?

"Don't Donna me," she yelled.

He caught up to her. "Donna please…"

She wished she could have been a witch – descending towards the flames of hell and never coming back. He could pull her down any time with the storm inside of him; he was electric. They were a wiring fault. Another fight? An apology? Another subtle declaration that didn't mean anything in the end? She wasn't floating; she wouldn't melt with her pointy hat and broom falling to the side. This wasn't witchcraft; he wasn't under her spell. Donna was a tape controlled by an electromechanical device. It was so fucking easy to fall back into that freeze- rewind-pause motion of theirs. The VCR was broken and not playing the tape forward.

"Don't shut me out," he added.

"I'm doing what now?" She stopped for good and turned around. "I've been racking my brains trying to find a way to approach this, to approach you and talk. But you're you so… you always find a way to hurt me with derogatory remarks or remind me of how _yours_ I am."

"I knew I should have apologized for that." He looked away.

"You've said plenty of shitty things to me before, Harvey," she began and added, "and as much as I wish it was, it's not what I'm mad about."

"I was wrong to leave you," he said.

"Well, that we can agree on!"

"But it was the best decision I ever made," he countered.

"It's like I get half way up the wall and you pull me down," she yelled. "You said you loved me and you backed off. You heard me right when I told you I wanted more and you ran to Paula. I let it all go after that kiss, I quit my job for your relationship to work! And then you came back only to leave me again."

Out of breath, Donna slowed the electric charge within her down – seeing the look on his face.

"But you came back to me too," he said.

"Blowing off steam isn't how two adults talk about their relationship," she paused and didn't really think her next words: "You don't want me to take care of you anymore, is that it?"

No movement. His lips were tight and nothing was coming out from this mouth. He was breathing through his nose alone.

"You can't say it, can you?" She searched his eyes.

"You're not talking about me taking care of you here, you're talking about that kiss… and that part of me that's petrified," he admitted, his eyes mirroring her search in his own exploration.

"What part of you?" The nervous laugh that escaped her told him this unknown was over. Nothing would stop her now; she would anticipate his need for reassurance.

"You either have feelings for me or you don't and I have been wondering that for so long I don't even know how to ask you anymore."

One plus one equals two; not three, not four, not five. It was just them and it seemed he dreaded having to solve a subtraction.

She had expected him to discard her words again, change the line of questioning; lawyering his way out of it – eventually stating he had feelings for her at best but never in a million years could she have expected him to say the truth.

"I'm in love with you."

It hit like a wave crashing over her, harder than thirteen years of words and gestures, stronger than his kisses or the orgasms he'd given her.

"I love you, Donna" he emphasized as if she hadn't heard him the first time.

She never thought he'd admit it – and if at all, so bluntly. She thought she'd have to pick a quarrel with him. She thought she would be the one to break first.

She averted her eyes and it stirred something inside him.

"Donna?" he asked, tentatively pulling her away from her trance – not because he didn't want to let it sink in but because of the way she was reacting: bright, standing still in the sunlight. Would she get burned? Licking his lips, he didn't think he had ever been this nervous before.

She suddenly crossed her arms, breaking eye contact with the twinged image of her walking on the grass path stopping at her feet and said: "Be more specific."

This felt organic, like life had materialized and breathed into her.

He angled his head, tracing up and down her face with focused and failed reassurance. "We've got time for that.,"

"How long?" she pressed, looking more serious this time.

"You don't want the answer to that question."

"I do want it."

"I just poured my heart to you and you have nothing else to say?" he asked in disbelief.

"I need to hear this."

"Why does it matter?"

"Because nothing else you'll say matters as much as this. Why won't you just answer me?"

"And we're back," he sighed and added, "to why–"

"Oh you're damn right we're back!" she interjected. "Say it."

"I can't rewind thirteen years in one sentence."

She wasn't staring at a VCR but at a mirror staring back at her. Her translucent amber eyes had settled inside the brown of his, firing the shine back at her. Drawing her in and erasing her smart mouth, she could see herself enraptured by the depth of her soul. Her pale skin had never felt so hot to the touch. She didn't need his touch anymore to know he'd been there all along.

"Talk to me…"

All of this time she thought she could do it. But the words weren't coming. Haunted by his own, she wanted to rush back to the start, never start working for him, never falling in love with him and scratch the finish line to do it all over again.

She called her body for the clearing of a path to run. Run away and leave him here to stare at the wilderness – surrounded by butterflies and a missing deer.

* * *

 _TMT_

 _TMT_

 **Hope you liked this chapter. It wasn't an easy one. I'd like to thank my teammate on this,** **AlternateShadesofBlue, for her patience, beta-ing and her kind words. As per usual I would like to thank all of you for reviewing. I think I answered all your reviews but maybe I missed some. If I have tell me and I will properly thank you. Thanks to those without an account, Twitter folks and all the guests.**

 **"And now I'm gonna anxiously wait for reviews," she said.**

 **"You should scratch that," she countered with all her might.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Too Many Times**

 _Suits / Donna x Harvey (darvey)_

 **Chapter 10 – I love to hold you close, tonight and always**

 _I'm seeing the pain, seeing the pleasure_

 _Nobody but you, 'body but me_

 _'Body but us, bodies together_

 _I love to hold you close, tonight and always_

 _I love to wake up next to you_

 ** _Pillowtalk – Zayn_**

They'd climbed on board this highway train to nowhere; a high speed engine where they'd been losing their fears in each other's arms. The tighter the space, the more fearsome he'd felt. But he'd been wrong, they were millions of miles apart and their insecurities had been blown out of proportion. Fucking to love and loving to fuck – without addressing the in-between.

 _I can't rewind thirteen years in one sentence._

There was no other way to encapsulate years of struggle with his heart's desire. So dirty and raw like the love they'd made. A light and dark love embodied in their relationship, ruled by his constant need of her – care, advice, adoration and constant presence. A war zone he'd never wanted to get out of until now.

His feet had trouble dragging him back to Earth and reality. But he needed answers from her too. Her running away couldn't be a rational one.

He'd kept calm at first, stroking his upper-left-arm; it felt cold to the touch and it didn't pain him to wish he were having a heart attack.

Was it the wooden house that felt stone-cold? The weather had been getting warmer with each passing day and he should have thought about opening those windows to let the air in. He hadn't cleaned the house either. He hadn't done all the things he'd been doing before. He hadn't taken care of himself. Why were the lights turned off? He'd left his mind, his old self wandering the rooms of his new self.

He went to the bedroom and saw that she'd packed her things and that the keys were gone. Harvey rushed back out of the house, ran to the street and only saw his pickup. He walked back to the house, head low and as soon as he reached the threshold, he closed the door with a loud bang.

Would it have made any difference had he been holding her? Or would she have run back here, packed her suitcase, grabbed the Mustang keys and left anyway?

He roared at the empty space, tossing everything in his path: chairs, food, and cutlery – filling his body with tears that were too heat-sensitive to cry. He tried calling her. And heard nothing but a dead-end ringtone until his hand went out of control and sound of a device being shattered to pieces against a wall hit his ears. He screamed some more, speeding up against that wall and hit it repeatedly. The translucent amber was gone from his eyes and he was hurting himself as if he were a punching ball. He had trouble breathing, shouting in agony – the tears bleeding off his hands red. Red tears of guilt, hatred and self-loathing in two angry fists. The sight of blood was the only thing capable of stopping him. The pain would have never been enough.

He went to the sink, opened the tap and kept his fists closed under the faucet, slowing down his erratic lungs. The beating in his chest started pumping back to his brain and he felt dizzy with ideas, thoughts and lack of them within seconds. He went to pick up his phone and noticed the screen and other parts broken beyond repair. He got off that train – the illusion of a mended relationship, fell to the ground and remembered why he'd never told her in the first place. He'd fucked up. All of it.

* * *

 _You feel guilty over something and I can't figure out what it is._

He'd never been ready for the better part of his adult life. She'd told Rachel that. He wasn't ready to be in a relationship with her then; so how could he be now? She'd reminded herself to forget on multiple times. Forget her deepest and greatest expectation: that he'd been in love with her somehow. Even if it'd been irregularly and even if that love of his had been on hold at times. Hearing him say it had been so different from the ever-present thought in her head. Panicking and running off hadn't simply been a reaction to his words but a consequence of the inability to form coherent words herself. He'd opened up his heart and the biggest wound of all; preventing any further scarring.

She couldn't keep her mind off the image of him answering her with such vulnerability. Packing her things hastily, she'd grabbed the first keys she'd found – feeling them in hand. She hung onto them as if she were taking a part of him; a symbol of departure and an exit she had no choice but to go for. The car that didn't have a remote keyless system was the last physical contact she would get from him.

She drove to Boston and stopped at South station. She bought a one-way ticket to New York, waited till 4:34 PM on the platform but didn't get on it. She waited some more in the waiting area, checked her phone for calls. One missed call from him and texts from Robert she had no intention of going through.

Even though she had no idea what she would say, she called him.

One second and it was over. She called incessantly only to end up on his voicemail each time. She felt strange, alone, guilty and embarrassed for reasons that escaped her as her mind was too focused on a series of words that meant the world to her. On her way back to New York City physically for the first time since she'd found him, Donna felt unprepared; no matter which side her feet would drag her back to next.

She bought another ticket for 5:38, got on the train and then off it before it could take her anywhere. Donna considered the fact that she should have gone to the airport instead. There was no way in hell the flight attendants would have allowed her off a plane.

He hadn't called her back. She was crying by 6:00PM, doubts forming in the shape of strangers – as if he were there trying to stop her from leaving. But he hadn't gone after her and it killed her inside. It certainly didn't stop her from buying another ticket as if Amtrak needed her money to survive another fiscal year. She couldn't even think about getting a refund on the trips she hadn't taken. She bought a bottle of water and a Mars bar. But nothing could get past her lips.

The train was leaving in 30 minutes and the only reason for her to stay hadn't shown up, neither swept her off her feet nor tell her everything would be okay. Sometimes he seemed to be right there in front of her but these men were wearing suits on a Sunday. It was all in her head and the most disturbing hallucination of all. He was everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

Only then did she see the big picture instead of trains and tracks leading to everywhere but where she was supposed to go. All the lies and truths between them had been on a collision course. Every aching void taking form frantically in her brain.

She'd been shaking her legs, thinking about Lower Vine Brook with him maybe waiting for her to come back. She saw a young couple hug before stepping on the train again. They kissed, said goodbye to each other. Donna's eyes shot open as she read an all too famous three-little-word exchange on their lips that ripped her heart out.

The crash was wearing off and it didn't feel right.

* * *

There was something telling him to go to the Flare and spend time with his brother and the rest of the gang. Find a solution in conversation rather than heavy drinking. He'd been staring aimlessly at the front door, wondering how he could turn this around without giving his body instructions like taking a car ride around town or straight to Boston to look for her at the airport or train stations. He never cared once about the fact that she'd stolen his car. He wanted to drink to failure – failure at the way he'd given his all to her.

He recalled a moment she'd looked at him. A never ending plunge into his own darkness. And forever in her eyes, he would be searching for this life.

His heart and gaze were in a moment, stuck and alien to the inexistence he'd felt for hours. Tired of hoping she'd come back and already tired of a life without her. Harvey had no intention of bracing himself for the next fall. He'd left her once before after all.

He expected the sound of a car roaring nearby. But nothing came. No engine stopped but the one inside of him. Until he realized his legs had been walking of their own accord outside his enclosed space. Somewhere he didn't want to be and far from that Ceylon tree and the wilderness he'd come to love again.

Surrounded by the twisted tales in his head for several miles with the night sky falling all around him, Harvey opened what he thought was a closed door. As he walked to order some MaCallan at the only place that served it in the area, a familiar figure closed on him.

* * *

She'd stopped by his place and his car was still here but no sight of him. She waited another hour to see if he would show. It was just her, this house and the Ceylon tree. She'd taken a turn around the neighborhood without success. She checked her phone and tried calling him again. She went to his mother's but no one answered. There was only one place she could head to for information; the bar that they were supposed to go to – as a couple meeting other couples for drinks. Life was so simple five hours ago.

She parked her car and turned the GPS on her smartphone off. The Flare was dozens of voices louder than the music that was playing. Boston sports teams' logos, signed uniforms and televisions were plastered all over the walls. She had a good feeling about this place. She saw Marcus wind his way through tipsy customers to order drinks.

"Marcus!" She rushed to the bar.

He turned around: "Hey, Donna! Glad you guys could make it."

"Hey, Gosh you look so pretty." Daphne hurried up beside the redhead, followed by Fred and Katie.

"Where's Harvey?" No introduction was necessary.

"I thought he was with you?" Marcus looked behind Donna but saw no one.

"Did something happen?" Katie's words stung Donna back into frantic mode.

"He wasn't home; he wasn't anywhere and I need to talk to him. I–"

"Calm down, Donna. Take a deep breath." Fred joined in the conversation.

Daphne placed a soothing hand on Donna's shoulder: "Honey, I'm sorry but we were waiting for you both. He hasn't shown up."

"What did he do this time?" Marcus closed his fist in anger. Donna noticed how similar the two brothers could be.

"Nothing, it's all me this time," Donna explained. "Just… just tell me where he could be."

"Do you know?" Katie asked Marcus.

"I have no clue where he is."

Donna sensed Fred was studying her. "I think I know where he might be."

The worried look on his face told her she had to hurry.

* * *

Sophie leaned on the bar, the nape of her neck exposed and her protruding mounds almost sticking out over her dress. The low-cut neckline was a sight for the bartender's sore eye.

"Get me another shot and this man right here another of what he's having."

"What do you want Sophie?" Harvey brought his drink to his lips.

"Hey, Stranger!" Sophie licked her lips, sensually. "Where's the girlfriend?"

"Far." He drank half of the glass and set it back on the coaster.

"You know what Gary?" Sophie called the bartender back. "Give us a whole bottle of whisky."

Harvey didn't have it in him to protest. He didn't know how much he needed to drown his fucking sorrow.

"Did you guys have a fight?" She was all too cheerful for his taste. But whatever her intentions, he couldn't blame her for asking.

"This doesn't concern you."

"It's okay. I don't mind staring at you all night long if I have to." She bent over slightly, to grab a bowl of peanuts, trying to give him a good view of her ass.

"Do you always steal food?" Harvey noticed her movement but prevented his animal instinct to kick in and watch.

"Gary knows I like to get some things… free of charge." She wasn't even hiding her intentions anymore. "I can give you some if you want."

* * *

Donna pushed the doors of the Zone open – a cheap-looking excuse of a nightclub to drink and bang according to Fred. Fake wooden walls with vivid spotlights darkened and dazzled her vision at the same time. Laughter and screams clouded her ears. She examined the room, searching for a face she didn't hope to see. Women twiddling their hair at pissed off dudes, standing drinkers on the dancefloor trying to fondle women twenty-years their junior, drinking games gone wrong, pint glasses, cocktails, someone crying in a corner, couples secluded near the bathroom and moans escaping too many of them for her to feel at ease. She tightened her grip on her shoulder bag.

Her eyes eventually set on a familiar whisky bottle and unexpected shot glasses. She recognized his signature V-neck long sleeve black t-shirt and sighed in relief even though she knew he would be drinking his way out of this. It was her mistake, not his. She realized there were muscles under that shirt of his. Her excitement vanished when she noticed a woman's hand resting on his upper-arm.

"Not interested." He looked away but she grabbed his arm, forcing him to switch position on the bar stool.

"Okay, let's talk then." Sophie gave him a sultry look that meant her leading the conversation was the least of his problems.

"I want to be alone." He finished his drink.

"That's what you said the last time. And I think you and I both know we have unfinished business."

He rose up and sighed: "Get the fuck out of my way."

"So what do I have to do?" She put her hand at the junction of his pants; eager fingers slid down over the denim and kneaded his crotch greedily. "Jerk off your memory?"

"Get off me." He violently pushed her hand away.

"Hi, Sophie," Donna cut in and let her man's name fall from her lips. "Harvey…"

She walked between them and graced him and his front with her back protectively.

"Look what the cat dragged in! The needy one," Sophie let out.

"Harvey and I need to talk, Sophie. If you don't mind of course…" The tall redhead had decided to take things into her hands and to keep her cool for as long as possible.

Harvey was too stunned to speak and his Adam's apple jumped when elegance personified had come to his rescue.

"You know I sucked his cock, right?"

"And exactly how do you think that is going to stop me from laughing at your sorry self?" Donna locked cautionary eyes on the other woman.

"From the looks of it, you weren't able to keep him satisfied."

"Is crotch grabbing all that takes?" Donna felt a surge of electricity coursing through her. She stared the woman down and not even once allowing herself to blink. This bitch deserved all sorts of evil entities chasing after her. And the former secretary was eager to give her a good look at who she would lose against. "And knowing him, he's going to lose his cool if I keep this conversation going for too long."

" _He_ was doing fine without you so far," Harvey huffed, moved to face the counter between the two women but was cut off by Donna.

"Honey… Allow me."

"Honey?" He quirked a brow and within seconds, she pressed herself against him, her hand finding the nape of his neck. She yanked the V of his shirt with her other one and brought his head down to hers. His eyes shot open as her soft salty lips lured his into an all too ardent temptation. Lock picking her way through the inside of his mouth had her feeling like she was the only woman in the room. He stood wobbly-legged, a growing desire to get to know her again – gradually losing his breath. He never sensed that he was over-exerting himself thrusting his tongue into her forced entry, eagerly colliding against her teeth and caressing her language every chance he got. She moved her hand to his hair as her tongue cooled off remnants of whisky replacing the taste with her own. He moaned into her mouth and his arms fell to her waist. He pulled her as close to him as he could.

She left his mouth slowly to catch a much needed breath, a thin line of saliva standing between their lips. She opened her eyes and said, panting against him: "Hey."

"Hey." He kept his closed, swaying her to his own rhythm.

Never breaking physical contact, she turned her head to meet Sophie's displeased figure.

"Like he said, he's not interested. So get the fuck out of here before I punch those tits of yours back into your ribcage."

Sophie left the scene of the crime accepting the evidence in front of her.

"Well, crotch-grabbing definitely gets you in a mood. She had no idea who she was going up against for sure." Harvey nudged his nose against Donna's.

"Her hands were too small to begin with." She said feeling him trail kisses along her jaw.

"I thought I had lost you." He nuzzled his face in the crook of her neck.

"I'm sorry." She brought her arms back around his neck and forced herself not to burst into tears again.

"Let's get out of here. Shall we?" He was beaming as he let go of her frame and extended his arm to take her outside.

She nodded – confidence having left her eyes and, holding on to his face for emotional support, she accepted his arm.

"Did you walk here?"

"I did. Took me over an hour."

"Did you call that guy about the painting?" She stroked his arm pensively.

"No." He noticed his car parked outside and led her to it. He addressed the car with a paternalistic tone: "Glad to see you're back too."

"You have to." Their initial and yet short conversation was still on her mind.

"Don't we have more pressing things to talk about?" Standing in front of the driver's door, he extended his hand out to her. "Keys?"

"How many drinks have you had?"

"Not enough." He clenched his fist like a based-on-reflex therapy.

"Are you taking me home?" The pronoun and word had escaped her – improvised for her and dangling meaning in front of him.

"Home has a nice ring to it coming out of your mouth." His smirk told her that improvisation had worked against her.

She took the keys out of her pocket and tossed them at him. They got into the car and he drove out of the parking lot and onto the full moon road.

Blocks and minutes had gone by. Donna felt Harvey grab her left hand.

The redhead cleared her throat. "Sorry about stealing your car."

"You came back."

"I did." She looked at their hands. "I tried calling you."

"I broke my phone. Why did you leave?" He gripped the steering wheel tightly.

"Is that so? I can still ask you the same thing."

"Are we gonna keep having two conversations at the same time?" His hand left hers, leaving unwanted chills.

"Watch the road." It was probably uncalled for but she missed the contact of his skin against hers. She noticed his knuckles were bruised but said nothing of it.

"How did you find me?" He checked the rearview mirror to his left.

"I went to look for you at the Flare and Fred told me where you could be." The woods to her right were touched by the vivid light of the full moon. This was the other side of Lower Vine Brook. They weren't far from suburbia. She had never felt so far from home.

"I'm glad he did." He sped up, feeling reinvigorated.

"I really didn't know what I would be walking in on." She shuddered at the thought of him with another woman. He didn't owe her anything but she couldn't get the sight of Sophie out of her mind.

"Donna…" He looked away from the road to treasure her in a quick look. "I would have never–"

"I'm in love with you too," she cut him off, staring down at her entwined fingers. She looked over the dashboard and saw a deer crossing the road and yelled his name.

His transfixed orbs left her outline, saw the animal speeding up out of his way and felt his limb move without him. Tires scratched and the wheel turned right, bringing the car out of the road and onto the soft shoulder fast. The car eventually came to a halt between the road and lines of trees.

They both caught the breath they'd been holding.

"Are you okay?" he asked, foot glued to the brakes. He took his seatbelt off to check on her.

"I think I am." It had been a close call. She was shaking.

"You told me to watch the road… I'm… I'm..."

"It's okay. I'm okay." She watched him unfasten her seatbelt and wrap her upper frame in his arms.

She tilted her head back and cupped his cheek. "And you?"

"I'm more than okay." He ran a hand through her hair with the brightest look in his eyes to date. "You just said you were in love with me too."

"I can't stay here, Harvey." He felt her thumb caress his scruff, drawing and leaving tears in its path.

He yanked his hand away and got out of the car hastily. He walked deep into the woods, feeling the trees caving in on him like the walls of his old office. Flashes of her at her cubicle, never trespassing enough to make him feel the pain he was feeling now. Rays of light weren't blinding him enough to forget on this anxious path away from her.

She followed him into the woods and called after him. "My life's in New York! I can't just stay here and leave it all behind."

But he kept walking deeper into the wilderness. The full moon illuminating the back of his hair, creating soothing lines she couldn't reach out to anymore.

"This isn't how I'd planned any of this." She was getting further away from him in her mind but her feet never complied with it. "Harvey!"

"And how exactly did you think this would go?" He stopped before a cedar tree, crouched and sat against its trunk. "That you and I wouldn't sleep together? Struggle to say all the things we've been meaning to say for years only to have you run back to New York the second things got too real?"

She'd caught up to him by then, standing only a few feet away. "You have to help me here, Harvey."

"I don't want to help you. I want you to stay with me." He kept staring in the distance – coaxing the trees with his eyes to get some form of answer.

"Look at me, Harvey!" The words had the desired effect. He switched his gaze back to her. "You know I want to stay with you. But this isn't my life." She moved to stand next to him. "And maybe this is yours but–"

"You don't want to be a part of it." He interrupted her softly.

"I want you to be _the_ part of my life I wake up to every morning, spend most of my day with and go to bed next to at night. But I feel like we've been dancing in the dark for two days; and our problem seems to be work-related."

"Just like it used to be," he sighed.

"Yes." She wanted to scream until she saw him extend his hand for her to sit next to him. He silently asked her to join her between his legs so that she could rest her back against him. She dropped her bag on the side.

Donna took the time to observe his hands that were securing her against him and asked: "What happened to your hands?"

"I thought you were gone for good." He didn't remove his hands from view.

"It isn't in my blood to leave you." She caressed his bluish knuckles with her fingertips.

"Are you saying it's in mine?" He countered. She felt him stiffen behind her like a rock.

"I'm saying now you know I need you. You have no reason to be gone." She opened her bag and took the bottle of water she had bought earlier. She could sense they hurt; she offered to wash them.

"I prefer whisky, you know?"

"Press your palms together." He sighed and obeyed. She began pouring water on them and heard him wince.

"Rub them together under the water." Donna poured some more and he allowed the cool water to cleanse them, inside and out. She took his hands and checked their state, paying attention to every detail in the same way she used to straighten his tie or neatly coif his hair. She closed the bottle and tossed it aside.

He felt her lean into him more – her own substance adjusting to his.

"Then why do you have to be?" His constricted chest relaxed against her back, thankful in thought at the way she'd taken care of him; again and for old times' sake.

"Because going back there isn't leaving you."

He breathed in loud into her neck, the smell of red hair burning his nostrils and dropped a kiss that made her close her eyes. A tear he couldn't see escaped her right eye and cascaded over her cheek.

"I know." He rested his cheek against her temple.

"Harvey?" She gulped and her eyes shot right into the distance, fixated on the certainty of trees – standing proud and tall around them.

"Yes?" His name already felt like goodbye on her lips.

"I want you to hold me."

"I'm already holding–" She interrupted his next words by lifting her sweater up a little above her navel and placed his left hand against it. He crooked his head, brow furrowed to see what she was doing. Her fingers began to shake working the button of her jeans. He stopped her movement. He understood. She didn't have to keep going. His other hand left hers and he loosened the button and slid the zipper down slowly. He moved his hand and skimmed his knuckles against her inner-thighs, delaying stimulation.

She gave his mouth better access to her neck and felt his breath tickle her skin. His fingers stroked the area between her thighs and groin above her pants at a glacial pace. Her breathing grew stronger, shutting her eyes and the premise of arousal while producing an uncontrollable wriggle of her butt. He closed his eyes feeling her cheeks press together against his groin.

All of this felt strange. She couldn't waste a minute without him. She was asking him to be with her one last time. She was unable to see him and yet no doubt swirled in her mind as to who she was with; Harvey was the man she could always fall back on. Too many times she'd felt like she was getting tired and old. Slices and cuts of their previous life together were flashing before her eyes, compromising her final decision. She wondered if she wanted to open his eyes so much that she had forgotten to open her own.

"Is this why you wanted my hands clean?" A smirk formed against her ear. He rested his hand at the intersection between her skin and the hem of her lace.

"If I'd said 'I want you to touch me', what would you have said?"

"I'd have said 'say it again'." His deep and husky voice had her clit throb urgently.

"I want you to touch me."

"Open your eyes then," he breathed, placing his hand over the covered mound. Four joined fingers established hold on the fabric, tugging, folding it up and clinging to it. Her inner walls were still protecting the wetness underneath. He felt her cheeks warm up against his scruff –irritation and heat all too real.

"The freckles have to stay," he let out, kissing her cheek.

"They can't leave." She gripped each of his legs for support. She felt her arousal swell in her clit, in her guts and through his groin. The seconds passed of fingers rubbing her covered slit, stretching the fabric and making the muscles of her core flex.

She spread her legs further, the junction of her pants creating an unpleasant friction against his sore knuckles. He groaned, pulled his hand out and sought the comfort of silk, curls and skin under the hem of her panties. Two days sent them insane into the mechanics of pleasure, forgetting why love was so hard from the start.

She held her breath when she felt his first strokes against her, his fingers parting her before easing his middle finger in a comfortable up and down rhythm. She panted at the touch, body writhing and ass zigzagging against his groin. Rewired and salvaged, she wished he could find that shortcut back to her. She hoped the fingers roaming over her were part of that alternative route.

His other hand reached her bra and he started to fondle one of her breasts through the soft material. He sucked an earlobe and pulled a cup down under her breast, creating a temporary shelf for him to freely grasp hold of the nipple. He pulled the hard flesh between two fingers. She moaned long and low, arching, jolting forward and wanting more.

In spite of the bones and joints of his hand hurting, he kept alternating motions over her clit, lubricating his barely inserted middle finger from her opening as he went. The tightness of her jeans was a punishment but he felt himself hard at being jailed by her, tortured by her apparel and trapped inside.

She didn't think she'd ever been able to stimulate herself – thinking of him – the way he was making her feel right this very moment.

He could feel her let go and sensed she wanted to take her pants off. Leaving her core and breast, he helped her get rid of them, panties reaching down to her knees. Legs still parted, she bent her knees slightly and jutted her pubis forward. He slipped his middle finger inside of her first and built a slow rhythm trying to hit her G-spot. She was this religion coaxing him into atoning for his sin.

He remained still for a moment, enjoying the feel of her around his roughened and callused finger. The animals could be prowling around, he didn't care. He'd found his mate in the city of dichotomies, Beaux-Arts meets Art-Deco, meets Modern and International styles. Exhilarating, exhausting and inspiring was this postmodern tale of two souls trying to make the most of their century on this Earth. Too afraid the outside world would've consumed them, he'd forgotten who he was. Work, city life; he didn't know if it could be him again, feeling too enraptured by the beautiful world she was to soil her back into his broken one. The hand gesture soon followed as he inserted his ring finger. He panted against her neck, inner-walls closing in on his come hither motion; palm sometimes facing upwards and sometimes resting on her pubic bone for support as if indecision could delay the inevitable.

He rested his head on her other shoulder and parted her hair to the side. "Move against me."

She wanted to yell for him to come back to her. But she couldn't force this choice on him. She twisted and turned on her spot. The rhythmic build-up between her legs disappeared as she insinuatingly reached for his pants. He yanked her hand away, forbidding her from proceeding and placed it back on his thigh.

"Move," he groaned, fingering her again.

She'd felt him grow to his hardest point but couldn't free him in return. She'd kept writhing against him, hoping he would get some release too.

He'd slip away and come back stronger with every meeting thrust. She'd kept her eyes open, head resting against the crook of his neck, slipping down his shoulder only to move back up. Unsteady and supported at the same time, she couldn't have asked more from him. He'd resigned himself to jerking his aching cock to the harsh pounding her backside was causing him.

This was their story, telling her what to do, asking her not to leave and her enabling him, feeling the slow motion of their life take a step back and culminating in a standalone realization. She was about to lose her fears one more time, fucking his remaining finger sensually only for the woods to see.

"I love you… Harvey."

He just kept thrusting his vibrating middle finger in and out until her moans took on a desperate tone. He let go of her and wet buzzing fingers began working her clit, the circular motion sending her over the edge – and had her lose the fear she had. Language was replaced by pure unadulterated bliss.

He didn't need one last gift from her. He'd wanted to be it from the moment he'd met her and make this go on forever. Thanking her for loving him all those years. He'd erased the rules of mutual pleasure because he never wanted to stop feeling her against his control. He would keep the residuals of her orgasm under a tree, dirt and bark having soiled and bruised his backside, repairing his connection to earth. The setting was paradise compared to having to live with the memory of it all. She was already gone, far into the New York City skyline, skyscrapers inviting her back in and shielding her from view.

"I love you too."

His own release soaked through his boxers and pants and yet it could have never cast a shadow over hers. It was all he could see. Her being his, writhing forever in his arms; holding her close and bodies together no matter the barriers, no matter the distance.

His mouth was burning against her skin. Hot breath riffled the hair nape of her neck, soothing her erratic one.

Lessening her grip on his thighs, she wanted to fight the invisible hand applying pressure around her neck. His fingertips stroked her stomach; the shared guilt resting in his hand was an unforgettable sight to behold. The tight throat feeling she couldn't help but feel responsible for subsided in the end.

"What now?" She repositioned her bra cup and straightened her sweater.

"I'll drive you to Boston." He stroked her shoulders and watched her get back on her feet. She pulled her panties and pants up.

"You're not getting out of that car with those pants."

"I have no intention of getting out the car, Donna." His words hurt her more than she thought they would. "I just can't."

"I know." She sighed and picked up her shoulder bag, leaving the bottle behind and all forms of cleansing and mending gone with it.

He straightened himself back up too and followed her to the car.

Driving to Boston he realized they'd broken up. Her saying nothing during the car ride, him never once looking at her – none of it felt like a trip to freedom. Moments passed and the release of before became an unstable memory; an all too bitter goodbye and a desired dramatic turn of events. He felt old and tired. Afraid to be alone again with the one who got away by his side, he realized he'd been hers. He was feeling what she'd felt with the decency to let him know head on. Neither racing against time nor contemplating detours, he just drove – drove her away from him.

How a firm built a family he understood. The kiss she'd given him on the forehead before taking her suitcase, he'd felt deeply. He couldn't have handled another kiss on the mouth. He couldn't have handled words spoken to him. They could have been together from the start. They could have built a family. He could have given her everything but had focused on his other one instead. Finding ways to forget her, dating women to incite self-worth knowing deep down none of them could compete. Every time he had to get her back and despite how long it took, she'd indulged him. He just never thought he'd managed to lose her to her job.

He watched her – fiery red and dreamlike figure – disappear behind automatic doors and wondered if he'd traveled back to a time when he'd asked her to come and work for him vowing never to mention their other time. The tears in his eyes told him this was how she'd felt that day. Pain, anger and disappointment at seeing him prioritize his need over hers; only without the promise of working side by side, a ritual and the perspective of years to hope for things to change for the better.

* * *

 ** _TMT_**

 ** _TMT_**

 ** _TMT_**

 **Well, I guess that was _the_ chapter. Can't lie here, I really struggled with it. Alternateshadesofblue was my rock through this. Her input and words really made me feel more confident about it. I understand that Suits isn't an HBO, Showtime or STARZ show but this is how I wanted to tell this part of the story. This chapter left me on the fence and I sort of hope it does that to you too. The whole point is to feel undone. Chapter 11 coming soon. **

**Don't forget to show me some review love (or disapproval if this threw you off which I would understand completely).**


	11. Chapter 11

**Too Many Times**

 _Suits / Donna x Harvey (darvey)_

 **Chapter 11 – We've gone all over our bodies**

 _We've gone all over our bodies_

 _And gone all over our heads_

 _No dream of any other_

 _I dream of you instead_

 _I'm tuning in to your colors_

 _Tuning in to your heart_

 _And while we're in the same world_

 _I'm feeling worlds apart_

 _ **Solid Gold – New Carnival**_

The magic they'd given off for years, furtive glances that had her look away and times she'd immerse herself into forbidden feelings – had never felt so three dimensional. In the ghost of a house they'd built together, modern walls and skyscrapers for sole companions, she had to suffer through every spot, nook and cranny. She'd felt his disappearance before but nothing could compare to the air she'd been breathing alone for a week: rarified and asphyxiating. The tighter the space, the harsher the feeling, the wider the scenery, the deeper the gap. Their world that was once in their hands was now a concrete monster trying to swallow her whole.

There was no Harvey, staring at his playground, standing tall, trim, proud and suited to fit the world he'd made her come to love. She'd forgive her fight during the day, losing herself into work. Doing everything that was right for her. But she had spent most of her nights crying – hugging his pillow, never washing the sheets, trying to remember the scent of him.

The train had arrived at dawn that morning. Three hours late. First a passenger had to be evacuated for reasons unknown to her, and then there was a signal system failure. She'd expected some locomotive error or impairment at this point – as if the piece of machinery surrounding her acted under the will of God or Nature and didn't want her to reach her destination. The irony had reinvigorated her will to fight her instincts and yet had catapulted her back to the woods, to his car and into his arms. Eyes forward, never turning back again wasn't the goodbye he deserved. But it had been easier that way.

She had barely closed her eyes. Numb and staring aimlessly at the countryside for most part of the trip. She told Robert she'd come to work in the afternoon. She took a cab from Grand Central Station, leaving the Beaux-Arts style she was so fond of to go back to civilization: New York City or the greatest forest of them all. Her place had never felt so random; as if it wasn't hers. She traded her dirty jeans and sweater for one of her power suits and had gone to see Louis first.

He'd completely forgotten his in process argument with Katrina the moment he saw her. She'd only been gone three days and, according to a later conversation with Katrina, he'd gone frantic. They hugged and he gave her a look that said it all. Louis was frozen on the spot, profusely trembling and taking a moment to expertly switch to a new mood. Back to his antics, he attacked Katrina's supposed incompetence before dramatically shoving his office door open and exiting the room. Katrina unexpectedly pulled her in a tight awkwardly soothing embrace too as if she knew where she'd gone. The former name partner wasn't returning. And if Donna Paulsen couldn't do anything about it, then no one else could.

She'd tried sleeping at home the first night but sought his bed instead. She packed as many clothes as possible and all the necessary belongings. And from that moment on, every night she repeated the same routine, coming home to where her heart belonged.

At only God knows what hour of the night – trying to remember him, trying to feel him and trying to make her life work without him. Sometimes she would take one of his shirts, trap her wrists into his cufflinks and enwrap herself into this tailored torturous embrace. Red hair falling over cold sheets, moisture on her lips, dampness at the back of her neck, her body twisting and turning and coming until it hurt to repair the memory of who she'd lost. She would then go to his closet and in a violent rush, yank suits off hangers, toss them on the floor and absolve every wear, tear and clatter by putting everything back in place again.

She thought about throwing his suits away on more than one occasion and freeing herself somehow; but then she remembered she couldn't sell his apartment. He was always on her mind. And slowly, she'd begun another routine: talking to herself – pretending to be him before her body couldn't take it and everything would fade to black. She never dreamt of him.

Harvey hadn't returned the two texts she'd sent to his old phone. And she didn't have it in her to call him. In the mornings, she always hoped Robert would give her more assignments. Workload was her escape. The best part of her days was when Samantha Wheeler would just nod offhandedly at her in Robert's office. Both women had come to an agreement after an impromptu conversation in the main corridor on that first Monday back at work.

"Donna!" The tall blonde woman had an exasperated look on her face. "It's not good for business when the COO skips work. You got Cage & Sons to sign and I needed your input to draw up that contract."

"You're the lawyer here. You don't need me Samantha," Donna countered, trying to walk out on her.

"Well, that's what I told Robert at first. And Robert's always on my side. But this time, he kept rambling on about how I didn't understand how things work around here and how I should wait until you came back. For all the time I invest, I need return on investment. Me, losing time over this, isn't good for my business."

Donna faced the other woman again. "What do you want from me?"

Samantha handed Donna a copy of the contract. "I expect long comments and footnotes on my desk tomorrow morning."

"Have you ever learned to say please?" Donna yanked it from her hands.

"Is that how you tried to ask Harvey to come back this weekend?"

Had she not been at work, she would have punched that woman in the face. Robert too for that matter.

"You'll have it by tonight."

"Tomorrow, Donna. I need you to put real work into this."

"You're good at getting information, I'll give you that. But this firm knows me and you don't. I got that contract because I can read people. And fast. Just like I can read and adjust that damn contract in less than four hours."

"Well, everybody seems to be leaving this firm so that tells me you might not be as good as people think you are."

"Oh Samantha, I'm not good. I'm better." Her pulse quickened – ecstatically sharp words already forming in her head.

It took Donna less than a couple of glances her way, head tilts to scan her office, seconds to do the math and all the surprises she had coming spilled on the other woman like a shaken soda. "You wear contacts which means you used to wear glasses. Your eyes get tired at night which is why there's a pair on your desk. So… High School? College? Don't think those were good times for you. Boys never singling you out?" Samantha gasped when she'd heard Donna bring up her glasses.

"Now the dark rings under your eyes you tried to cover up with concealer and foundation tell me you haven't slept much last night. You probably cried over your last boyfriend who doesn't give a shit about anything but your ass. Scratch that, your dress which doesn't look like it's been ironed screams that he dumped you last night and you just couldn't go home."

"And how does attacking me on my personal life make you an asset to this firm or just better?"

"It doesn't. But you attacked me the moment you brought up Harvey." She felt a lump in her throat saying his name. "I'm not your enemy. So why do you have to make me one? Get rid of that chip on your shoulder and let me do my job. You'll have it on your desk tonight."

Donna delivered twice that day. Tossing the file at Samantha, she said: "I left the legal jargon to you and offered suggestions based on my meeting with David. The more personal the contract, the more satisfied he'll be. That's a hard bargain to pull off but I'm sure you can do it without risking the firm or going against Louis's by-laws."

Samantha put her glasses on and looked over the file – somewhat not unsatisfyingly.

"Thank you." Samantha's cold stare had never seemed so awestruck.

Donna nodded in return and was going to leave her office when the blond spoke. "I don't understand why a woman like you didn't use concealer this morning."

"I don't need it."

"Why?"

"Because I don't have anything to hide anymore."

Samantha didn't push it.

Donna threw the woman a sympathy look. "Whoever this guy is? He wasn't worth it."

Samantha turned uneasily in her chair. "How do you know it's not me who broke it off?"

"Well, it's just like you said. I'm not wearing concealer, am I?"

Both women had nodded in understanding, calling it quits.

She'd called Rachel that night. It was their ritual; a couple of times a week.

"I see him everywhere at the office. At his apartment as if he's staring at me from every doorway. It's like I'm hallucinating him but I know it's not him. He's shaved and wearing a suit. Do you think I'm going mad?"

"Well I think you shouldn't stay at his place, Donna. You should go home." Rachel sighed and continued, "But no, I don't think you're crazy. I went through the same phase when Mike and I separated. But he and I hadn't been together as long as Harvey and you have."

"We've only been together three days, I shouldn't–" Donna almost chuckled before her voice broke.

"It's not like that between the two of you and you know it. You have history together."

"This isn't helping."

"It's the truth. But you have to accept he's not coming back–"

 _The hell he isn't._

Donna heard Mike's voice over the receiver.

 _This is a private conversation. You have no boundaries… Mike, no, don't you dare–_

He must have yanked the phone from Rachel because the voice she heard next was his.

"He's coming back, Donna."

 _Put it on speaker at least._ Everything that came next resonated differently as if they were far away from the phone.

"You don't know that, Mike."

"I do. You're his everything."

"I chose work over him again, Mike."

"Whatever you choose Donna, it's going to decide for him."

"He let you go Mike and he didn't try to stop you."

"You're different, Donna."

"I don't want him to stop me from living my life."

Rachel spoke next: "And you shouldn't have to apologize for living it! He can't force you to quit."

"That's the thing, Rachel. My brain went against my heart on this."

Mike cut in, abrasively. "You have to ask yourself the right questions, Donna."

 _Mike stop playing with her feelings. She's a grown woman._

"No, it's okay, Rachel. I want to hear this."

"You're not afraid to lose your job. You're not afraid of losing him since he's already gone. So what are you afraid of?"

"I'm afraid he doesn't want me enough. Enough to get over his fears."

"And don't you think he hasn't asked himself the same question this entire time?"

White noise filled Donna's body.

 _Okay, that's it. You've said enough. Go back to work._

"He doesn't know what he's talking about." Rachel said, picking up where Mike had left off.

"He's… right."

"Don't, Donna. He's just mad at Harvey. He hasn't even spoken to him yet. He doesn't even know the whole story."

"Stop, Rach'. He knows everything because you guys make it work. You talk, you share. You know everything there is to know about one another."

"Go back to his place, Donna. Find a way to say goodbye for now."

"For now?"

"Just because I want you to find happiness doesn't mean…" Rachel chose her next words carefully – the wait disorienting Donna. " I want to see him fail to do so."

"You're worse than Mike at this, you know that?"

"What? What is that, hon? Sorry, D, I have to go apologize to my altruistic husband now."

"Thank him for me."

"I will. I love you, D."

"You too."

Another night. And another. Another drink – the only amber liquid that would make her stop feeling worlds apart. A couple of days had gone by and Rachel's advice had begun to slip away, leaving a figment of her imagination in the kitchen, in the living room and in the bathroom to boss her around. More nights than she thought herself able to count went by until she got sick of trying to say goodbye. The only eviction notice she'd received was from the broken signals of her brain. She knew she was making him up – a child's imaginary friend.

 _You're brushing your teeth the wrong way, you know that?_

"I'm not." If this was supposed to be Harvey, why did his words have to sound like her mother's? This hot version of him with at least three buttons of his shirt undone, exposing excess skin was enough to make her forget those stupid comments. Making him more real than she had to would just be a one way trip to the looney bin anyway. She chuckled at herself. "Stop it, Mom." She spat what was left of toothpaste and washed her mouth.

 _Okay, you got me. I'm not staring at your teeth._

She went rigid and held her breath. She wasn't wearing anything for she had just come out of the shower. This was as flirtatious as her mind could get.

 _Stop wearing my shirt._

"Then come and take it off yourself." She couldn't resist that imaginary banter.

She sought the comfort of the mattress - frenzied and distorted in mind and limbs. He was it; his leg grazing the curve of her mound, his hard chest crushing the swell of her breasts. She would grind her pelvis into the bed, one hand gripping the sheets, eyes dilated with desire as she came to the inevitable conclusion that this couldn't go on.

And yet the next time, she made him up again in the living room with a glass of scotch.

 _Hey. How did it go today?_

"It went fine." She was lying of course. She wanted an argument and craved for a soiled and perverted release. Single and career-driven, she'd never felt so far from the woman she used to be. How could she feel so independent and desperate at the same time?

She took her heels off and headed straight for the bathroom. He reappeared seconds later, leaning against the tiled wall, arms crossed with four loose buttons on his shirt. Same pattern and the same rotten feeling settled in her chest.

 _It doesn't look like it did._

"No, it didn't. Robert asked me to contact you because you weren't answering his calls. He needs you on a case and of course, you being you… You just couldn't answer, could you? Just like you keep on ignoring my texts."

 _I've been here all day, Donna._

"You goddamn haven't! You're not here!" Yelling against a great made-up love story was destroying her substantially and fast. The saddest song on Earth was playing in her head, crushing the remnants of a fading dream. A single tear left her eye as she gazed at his reflection. She couldn't touch him. She rested her palm against the mirror – tracing the contours of this mirage as if she held the power to dematerialize it with her fingertips. Connecting with herself again, she summed up, dryly: "You're not real."

 _Why did you leave me then?_

She was just a sinner without parole, jailed in an endless loop of surfacing wants and discarded needs.

"You're not real." She closed her eyes.

 _Is this your way of saying goodbye?_ She could have sworn she'd said this herself. This sham of a relationship, this pretense of a life with him had to stop.

"I guess it is." He didn't react. He couldn't react. She'd never programmed him to do that. He wasn't a robot, he wasn't flesh either. He was a reality she couldn't make work with her own. This was his old self, someone who was unable to open up – an everlasting in-between she'd conjured up to protect herself. She opened her eyes wide, gripped the edges of the sink with all the strength she could muster up and burst out crying. Gasping for air as salt started burning her eyes, drops tumbling down from her chin, drenching her dress, she felt her life crumble in and out. Chest heaving, her ribcage taking invisible punches that ripped through muscles, bones and guts as the image of him disappeared between her tears.

* * *

Kids. The only wave of good noise that had the effect of transforming a terrible series of days into something precious and worth desiring. Five days a week, two hours a day, he didn't have to talk to himself.

Marcus and Fred had been _extra_ supportive – trying not to bring Donna up. Drinks had been offered, words were exchanged and manly hugs accepted. The women couldn't help it though. Daphne and Katie didn't understand what was holding him back and tried some sort of intervention on him once.

 _Harvey, we know it's not our business but we're worried about you. You look like a mess._

 _Yes, you have to call her back._

 _At least send her a text or something._

 _This surely can't be over!_

But Harvey had retreated home instead of answering them. Every night, in his defense, he was drowning as if hooked to an anchor and falling towards the bottom of the ocean.

Sophie had come by a couple of times trying to get him into bed again. And by getting into bed he'd told Fred, she'd suggested they go at it in his car, in the woods even on the benches after a game between the adults. He'd repeatedly told her to back off. Their last exchange that night had been quite harsh. Everyone was gone, it was just them, the field and gear he had to pick up and bring back home.

"You've got to relax, Harvey. You told me yourself she's not coming back. You can't stay single for long and I know that around here, I'm the only one you've been interested in so far."

"Why do you keep pushing it? I am not interested in you, Sophie."

"You are. You just don't know it yet." She moved closer to him and rested a hand on his chest.

"I know what I want. And you're not it." Seventy five percent of it was a lie. The who was a certainty; as clear as the best home run. The how to get it was a constant battle and the general what of his life, an uncertainty at best.

"You know, I don't care about love. So what? You're desperately in love with her? I don't mind. I just want to feel your big cock inside of me."

"You know why I'm not trying to yank your hand away right now?"

"I think I do…" She licked her lips.

"Because I don't feel anything inside. You don't trigger anything in me. You'll definitely be able to get me hard but that's just because I'm a man. I don't want you and I certainly don't need you. " He said dryly.

"Harvey I –"

"I don't know what your husband did to you that turned you into this mess. But I truly hope you find someone that will make you love yourself again; enough that you stop acting like a crazy nympho. This isn't the way Sophie. And I'm not the solution to your problems."

"I'm not the only one who has a problem here."

"I never said I didn't. You'll just never be the solution to mine."

He saw a deer that night on his property. He hid out in his bedroom and checked his phone for Massachusetts' regulations on the subject. The fence had to be at least 8 feet high. He used repellents the first day. It didn't work. The deer had ventured by the cedar tree and stayed the whole night as if keeping watch, monitoring his every move. It would take him at least two weeks to enclose the property completely. The next morning he started fencing parcels between the path that led into the clearing and his property. He hated the idea of keeping the nature he'd been so fond of at bay. He simply never wanted to see that damn deer ever again. He didn't have to be at the bottom of all the whisky he had, not having her around was enough to make him figure out the emptiness he felt. The deer was the memory of lost beauty; she'd handed him a heart again – something worth breaking. He'd loved her all along. But she was supposed to be gone and that deer that'd crossed their path too many times with it. He stopped going to baseball practice. Fred had called a few times but Harvey had never answered.

His nights were spent falling asleep on the couch, reading her texts; old ones and the two she'd sent in an incoherent order.

 _I hope you're okay. Haven't heard from you all day. I'm back at work. I miss you._

 _Well, you know what? I never thought you would make that decision by yourself._

Scrolling back up and down again, his last connection to her was this phone.

 _13 years and you're quitting?_

 _I'm home. I'm sorry, Harvey. The last thing I wanted to do was leave you. Please give me a call at some point._

 _Harvey, are you in love with me? What have I done wrong?_

He'd gotten answers. But she hadn't. She'd done nothing wrong. He was just a screw up who'd lost the will to fight battles he'd created. Her loving him all those years; her choosing her career over him and now the loneliest and longest ride of his life was ahead of him. He deserved none of it and all of it at the same time.

He couldn't go to his bedroom. All he could see was her – getting dressed for him over and over again.

Days went by and he'd kept wearing the same clothes, barely taking showers. He didn't recognize his scent. His hair and scruff were a terrible mess like the mess she'd left inside of him. Working on the fence, eating the food his mother would bring him. She'd never said a word. Sometimes he didn't even notice her coming into the house, too focused on the task at hand. And at the end of the day he'd eat food he once thought delicious; enough to keep the incoming inhibition afloat and not pass out after one drink.

Another night came and, as if the Macallan he'd drank at his father's grave hadn't been enough, he drowned himself some more. The table was set for one as usual. And no matter how much he loved his mother, he couldn't eat.

He wanted to make it all go away; he wanted Donna to forgive him for being away from her. He remembered the smell of her skin. He remembered everything.

The city man wanted to take a midnight train. He wanted to be with her. But this was it. He had no reason to stay in New York besides her. He'd get bored; they'd be living different lives. What would he do all day? Run all the way up to Hudson Heights? Go North, beyond East 145th and then West of 177th Street? Forgetting streets and walk up and down a boulevard? And then run all the way down to Battery Park? And then what? They'd argue because this wasn't his life anymore? Would he leave again? Unknowns filled his head as he kept staring at the phone number his mom had sent him.

There was a knock on the window. It was way past 9PM, a whole month had gone by and the full moon was back to illuminate the one person he thought would always have his back. Lily.

Bottle in hand, he went to open the door.

"Mother." This was the sound of man gulping whisky out the bottle.

"Evening son." His mother had turned into a Hitchcockian version of herself. _Psycho_ was playing in his head for she seemed to be thinking of herself as Gordon.

"I'm busy." He kept his arm against the door.

"I just wanted to let you know I called Tom. He agreed not to sue."

"Good for you." He said dryly.

"Do you want to know how I did it?"

"Not interested." He tried closing the door on her face but she stepped in forcing him to stop.

"It boiled down to my word against his."

"No witness. But if he'd started paperwork, he could ask for compensation for his work; simple damage."

"Exactly, so I figured I'd use your dad's trick on him."

His interest picked up; she'd played Tom.

"I got him to admit he hadn't drawn up anything yet. He backed off and I transferred his money back to him."

"I'd say good for you." He drank some of his liquor. "But you were just lucky enough to make a deal with an idiot."

"You've stopped believing in what you love, Harvey."

"No, love found me and I let it go. That is the story of my life, Mom." He drank some more.

She took the bottle from him. "Stop with that bullshit ego of yours."

"And you better stop bringing Dad up every time you want to connect with me." This was a warning.

"Threaten me all you want, Harvey. I'm not leaving until you start forgetting her and get back to what really matters."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"In 1998–"

He cut her off. "Here we go again…"

"Your dad and I slept together one last time. I was with Bobby at the time."

"Goddamnit, Mom!" Not only did it make him feel uncomfortable but he thought about erasing the past year and the progress they'd made.

"It was one of the best adrenaline rushes I'd had in years. And even though you and I were on the outs, your dad and I kept in touch after that. There was a lot of love between us. We would call each other a lot, sometimes a couple of times a week. And before you ask, yes, Bobby knows."

"So you regretted leaving Dad, I got that."

"Of course I did. I just couldn't be in two relationships at the same time. But you can."

"This isn't making any sense. What kind of other relationship are you talking about? I will never cheat on Donna, you hear me?"

"This is not what I'm talking about. That story I just told you is to try to get some sense into you. You need that rush too."

"Are you saying I need to sleep with Donna one last time to get closure?"

"That's definitely not what I'm saying. And I'm sorry to say this Harvey, but you're blinder than I thought if you think what you need is to get closure with the woman."

"Well continuous lying and cheating will do that to you, I guess."

"Forget her and muse over this tonight." She took one step back.

He took the bottle from her hand and slammed the door in her face.

Forget her, right. As if it was that simple.

He didn't listen to Lily's advice. She didn't deserve to be called _Mom_. He wanted sleep and forget tonight. Tired of sleeping in his day clothes, he went to his bedroom and searched his closet for a tracksuit. Putting it on, his eyes caught the sight of a travel suit bag. He hadn't put it here. He dragged the zipper down and saw the suit he was wearing the day he'd arrived in Lexington – the one he'd left at his mom's, ironed and ready to be worn.

He started pacing back and forth to release the tension that had set in. Fists clenched. Eyes narrowed. Hands reached face. Confusion and anger were given a forceful rub. He ended up by the window. Body burn out avoided, he let go of his face. It was there, staring at him. At the end of the path. Halfway between the clearing and his house. He didn't think twice. He got out of the house, barefoot and climbed up the fence, fell and hurt his knee on the other side.

"Shit!" He shouted in pain.

"So you're not hurt, huh? Who's to say I won't beat the shit out of you?" Harvey eyed the animal with a threatening glare.

"What do you want from me, huh?" He walked up to the beast, yelling.

"Get the fuck away from this place."

He kept walking and walking until he was one foot away from the immobile deer.

"This is fucking insane. Shouldn't you be afraid by now?"

"Go back where you came from, you stupid–" He never got finish his sentence, words stuck in his throat as he saw the deer take one step closer to him, its breath so far from a warning.

It was beautiful and unafraid. Harvey stood still, feeling lighter for a moment as if wilderness and civilization had found common ground – uniformity.

He began a slow approach in an attempt to touch its narrow muzzle. His hand fell on its coat instead as the deer turned around and eventually moved away from him. Harvey sighed, looked away and slowly began to walk back to his house.

He heard a cracking sound and turned around instinctively. All the way from the edge of the clearing, the deer was looking back at him.

A car. A kiss. Automatic doors. Her disappearing before his eyes. There he'd gone again. Vivid flashes went through his head. Tuning in to her colors, the event going on and on in this live broadcast, he saw his lifeline swirl back again, pumping blood back into his heart.

And then the feeling stopped as the deer ran away. And all he could think about was that it – he – couldn't run away with her.

If tomorrow was too late, he had to live today as his last. He'd been played and this was the end. He didn't give a damn anymore. He was her fool. He'd found love and lost it.

Hands shaking, he slammed the bathroom door open. Hectic, he searched through the cupboard for something sharp. He drew blood; the deepest confession cut painfully through him like a one way motorway. Another cut. And another. The pain he felt was real as real as the days he'd spent with her.

He closed his eyes saying goodbye to yesterday.

* * *

She'd managed to make him disappear. Furniture and items had her more surrounded now than ever. She would stare for minutes at the New York skyline every night, dreaming awake of another side to their life. Only he held her hand in the apartment she'd made hers this time.

The days began to feel longer still. She dreaded the nights but she couldn't let go. No news of Harvey. This gilded cage was no more. She wanted to disappear inside this apartment, disappear with him and not go into work the next day. But she'd kept going and doing a wonderful job. She'd brought more clothes, more shoes and make-up. Every time she stepped through that door, a secret world within a whirl illuminated her heart again, moving in on her a little closer every time. She knew she'd start imagining him again and soon if she didn't leave. The woman everyone hailed as a queen at the office – the one who wore expensive dresses and shoes associates had a profound reverence for – couldn't go mad, could she?

She came home another night – having lost count of them – resolute in her decision to let go of him and leave this place once and for all. Hand gripping the knob, she stared at the front door for a moment contemplating the idea of staying one more night. As soon as she closed the door behind her, she was given the final push she needed to remind her to just go home. In the shadows as if expecting her and the decision she'd come to decide, the beautiful hallucination of him had set back in. The last version of Harvey didn't move. Dark eyes striking her figure, Harvey looked intensely sexy in his suit jacket. No tie and no scruff. She sighed, irritated at how disconnected with reality her brain was.

"You're not here." She stared it right in the eye before turning her head back to the door. Closing her eyes, she rested it against the door. "You're not real."

Physicality came into contact with her arm, the grip strong and determined. She saw herself being pulled its way. Dress collided with suit as carnal breath and flesh crashed onto her lips. Tugging at her mouth was the softest of a dream; tongue parted its edges, sank past her rim and went all the way in. At the melting point, she gasped for air and tasted again, losing herself in another time. Tuning in to what her mouth could feel.

Harvey.

Shaved.

* * *

 **TMT**

 **TMT**

 **TMT**

 **I guess they've gone all over their heads! I really hope you liked this chapter. Feel free (that is an understatement) as usual to leave a review; I wouldn't be able to write like THAT if it weren't for those. Chapter 12 coming up soon!**

 **I'd like to thank all of you for reviewing last chapter. It just means so much to me to know that you've all been here from the beginning supporting this story. If I could take you all in my arms right now, I'd ask for a group hug.**

 **My deer beta AlternateShadesofBlue says: "But honestly your writing has gotten to the point you don't need much from me." Well, she's wrong. I never would have been able to write this chapter without her. Thank you for your patience, kindness, hours of fun and other things only Kirby knows of. And yes, maybe I should say thank you for your help too. :P I 3 you and your pseudo uselessness.**


	12. Chapter 12

Lips had been found as keys and purse had been dropped. Authenticity was found in the shape of his mouth; he withered her with his tongue, reminding her of how hopelessly in love with him she was.

Her senses recognized this feeling. She could smell the subtle balance of bergamot, the floral touch of scents whose names she didn't care about, a hint of citrus and the timeless appeal of oak moss and musk. Dior's Eau Sauvage filled her nostrils; the expression of esthetic her eyes didn't have to seek in the dark corridor.

"I thought… I'd never… see you again," she whimpered against him.

Every swirl and contorted sweeps of his tongue against hers tasted like defeat. She surrendered to his touch, pressed up against the door, his hand holding the base of her head as if her backbone had shattered into debris.

"Really?" He breathed into her mouth, a self-righteous smirk tugging and sucking at her bottom lip.

A riot of nude lipstick and moisture tattooed his lips, his strong pull surreal against her non-perishable desire. The coarse contours of his lips were no more. Soft skin and the promise of a caress parting her mouth with every breath were found instead. Forward, backward, she lured him back in. Her repartee, tongue-in-cheek deadpan to counter his smugness and the half-smile she felt coming at her lips had no time to kick in.

"I missed you," she moaned in his mouth. "God, I missed you… so much."

The abundance of knowledge had her ease herself into the tremors in her body. Swiveling to meet his mouth, her nose squashed into his face. He dipped his head over and over again as if all accesses hadn't been covered. She heard him hit something – probably the light switch for she felt rays burn through her eyelids. She hadn't even caught a glimpse of his face yet, keeping her eyes closed to hold on to reality. She was bound to him, palm to smooth jaw, hand gripping his immoveable gelled hairdo. The tight sidepart and pompadour felt new as she realized he would have never allowed her to mess it up before. Uncompromising power clung to her lips, silencing the world around them with lingering consistency.

He hiked up her dress and placed his hands on each thigh. He teased her, eyes open, tilted his head back and let her up for air, taking her face in and preventing her from kissing more than his bottom lip.

"Open your eyes, Donna."

His soft commanding tone made her let go of his wet mouth and her eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dim-lit room. She searched his mouth first. There were small cuts, one on his cheek and the other – larger – between his mouth and nose. Her eyes darted upward to meet his own as if they were a gate to life – its embodiment and a wormhole that led into trouble.

"I figured out what I want." The rhythm of his inhale and exhale was persistent against her skin, a desired violation of her intimacy.

His face or this metaphor for the unknown attracted her and made her bring her legs closer together.

"You have?" The quiver in her voice gave away how sexed up she was. She was waiting for him and ferociously anticipating a response from the afterlife that the connection between their bodies would trigger. The consummation of a love she thought would be left to the things of dreams. Mesmerized by his eyebrows, moles and the improbability of the situation, she wished speech would hang out in the open longer so she could find Heaven on Earth.

He nodded, his body armored suit protecting everything but the window to his brain. Male, heat-sensitive, wearing alpha scented perfume and a suit she never wanted to see any other man in.

"Harvey, we don't need to–" She gulped as he nudged his nose against hers. Their lips barely touched as he breathed in the remnants of oxygen between them.

"I want you to cry out for more and get me to stay."

 _TMT_

 _TMT_

 **Too Many Times**

 _Suits / Donna x Harvey (darvey)_

 **Chapter 12** – _You have me crying out, crying out for more_

 _In the middle of the night all I think about is you_

 _I dream in all your clouds of glory, it's true_

 _So you wanna be a man about it, do you have to?_

 _And have you figured out all you wanted, have you?_

 _When your heart becomes a million different pieces_

 _That's when you won't be able to recognize this feeling_

 _That's called tough love_

 _You have me crying out, crying out for more_

 _ **Tough Love – Jessie Ware**_

 _TMT_

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Tough love crashed on her lips again. Donna fully straddled Harvey as he lifted her up off the floor, his hands clasped tightly around her waist.

His sex, thick and hard against fabric gave off the healthiest of sensations between her thighs. He moved her to the bedroom and kicked the door closed behind him. She didn't seem like she wanted to talk either.

She kept kissing him, teasing his mouth her way with force, sucking and pulling as she gripped the hem of his jacket.

Moving to her neck, leaving wet kisses at the hollow junction, he tentatively worked the top of her short-sleeves dress, partially showing one shoulder and giving him a highway to her cleavage. Living the life he wanted, too hard to keep his distance. This was the moment he surrendered to his humanity. Another kiss, another touch, another fix and her phantom shape gone; his body and soul leagued to keep her in his arms for she looked so good right there and not out of his reach anymore.

They landed at the edge of the bed and he laid her down on the mattress gently. She launched up to him, calescent in her kisses, giving him mouth-to-mouth hoping he would breathe life back into her. Lips disconnected as they fumbled for items of clothing, fondling muscles and tender flesh; hair disheveled by her hands as she pressed him to keep cooling down the aching sunburn-feeling radiating from her chest between her breasts.

She helped him with the buttons of his open quarters suit jacket. He tossed it and disentangled himself from her and stood up from the edge of the bed. He flicked his gaze over her body as he pulled his white shirt out of his waistband. She went rigid, holding her breath as she got to know him again, watching him strip. She gave him a sensual smile before urgency finally reached its peak.

She propelled herself up on her knees and kept busy because there was too much to talk about and an all too little window of time to take him home first. She stood up slowly and kicked off her shoes, knocking him over his feet. Taking the weight off her shoulders, she rolled the arms of her dress off them and down her body. She got out of her dress, rolling her hips inadvertently. This had more than a desired effect on him. He was down to his boxers. He took them off swiftly, the movement causing his fully erect cock to jut out and slap back up against his abdomen.

A wave of sheer lust spread through her when he walked up to her again. She wanted to put her mouth on him, taste him again but this wasn't one of those nights. He moved so close to her she felt his groin against her abdomen

"Donna…" She'd missed this. He placed the palm of his hand against her cheek and traced light circles. "Can I say something?"

She didn't want anyone else to call her name. She didn't think he'd ever asked before saying something. The unfamiliarity of his words made her heart leap inside her chest. "I don't think I can tell you not to."

"It hurts to know I never told you how beautiful you are."

She thought she would burst into tears. "Then make it stop."

"You're beautiful."

"Say it again." She flung her arms over his shoulders.

"Donna?" He closed his eyes, feeling her sway against him.

"Hm?" She shook her fiery red mane and bit her lip, suppressing a laugh.

"If you think I'm gonna let you be on top, you're wrong."

"Am I?" He shut her up with a kiss and gradually lowered himself to her breasts. Exploring the region more thoroughly than he had before, he cupped the side of one breast and kissed the top of it. The stimulation had the unattended nipple hard. He coordinated his suction to her nipple lightly. Plucking at it slowly and just as delicately while his other hand fondled her other breast sent her back to a month ago, the moment of capitulation even. She arched her back when he rolled the nipple between his thumb and finger; her grip on his hair never subsided. He squatted down to her waist and she inclined her head to watch as he kissed the skin above the hem of her panties. He pressed his lips against the fabric where it covered her mound and slit. She tilted her head back, tugging at his hair some more.

"Just take it off." She begged him, huskily and felt him come a little closer one more time. Before she knew it he'd yanked the soft silk down to her feet. He helped her get out of them and suddenly grabbed both butt cheeks and buried his face in her groin. She lost her balance and bent over him – reveling in the luxury of having him between her thighs. He let go of her butt and seized her arms in support. She'd felt this mouth against her lips, her breasts and waist but nothing could compare to how soft it finally felt against her cunt. His jaw didn't graze but caressed. The feeling was so otherworldly – new, old, lacking ruggedness and fulfilling all the same. Different to the point where she knew she couldn't help but love all sides and evolutions of him. As if thirteen years in the making hadn't been long enough for her to prepare for what was happening to them.

He pushed her on the bed and parted her legs quickly. He slid his hands under her ass and raised her to his mouth. The only man she's ever wanted to team with was licking her slit, tongue forcing its way into her entrance, mixing saliva with her own bodily fluid. He didn't own her. He never had. What he only ever wanted was to share; himself, body, heart and life. Having enough control to never have to ask and to hold off. He cradled both of her legs in his arms, flicked the tip of his tongue over her clit gently in and out of his mouth in a hungry attack. She gripped the sheets feeling herself coming. He was eating all of her restraint away. Her body squirmed under him, his name left her mouth and sweat started pouring from her pores. She relaxed under the motions of his tongue, her spasms subsiding quickly.

"Sorry." He reared up and a guilty look set across his face as he watched her catch a breath and savor her afterglow. "I couldn't stop."

This orgasm reminded her of all those lonely nights spent away from him; and how long it took her to even reach such a quick release.

"I don't care." She breathed loudly and laughed.

He frowned, feeling his cock lose its angle.

She wasn't blind to his need of reassurance but she'd needed to let it all out. She pushed herself off the mattress and crawled up to him and used this opportunity – his weakness for her – to assume command.

"Remember when I did this?" She sandwiched his upper lip with her mouth, plucking at it slowly.

He hummed yes, closing his eyes.

"Did you like it?" She slid her tongue over his parted lips.

"You were letting me know," he breathed against her and kissed her back. "You wanted this."

"And now I want more." Not something more. Not just more sex. She wanted him to keep letting go and have everything he desired for she wanted nothing but for him to have it all.

She began trailing kisses on his jaw, focusing on the cut – the sharp memory of scruff against lips and body vivid in her mind. He'd shaved. She hadn't asked him to. She loved this new look and the sensations it brought, coarse against her skin, having her subdued. But having him this way again meant so much more; he wanted to show her he'd embraced it all. She moved down to his neck and felt his Adam's apple bob against her cheek. She kissed his collarbone sensually and grabbed his flexed ass. She smirked against his chest and he jerked slightly when she sucked on one of his hypersensitive nipples. She sensed he was enjoying this the more she licked and sucked, for his carnal center rose up again. She switched to his other nipple and he placed a hand at the back of her head, urging her on. Her appetite for his chest made her think of the next course. Rock hard and soft against her mouth, she felt the need to gently bite the tip. The bite and change of temperature through her warm breath electrified him.

He'd surrendered to her. She grabbed his hand and yanked him to the bed. He collapsed next to her and she straddled him. She placed her fingers around his neck and moved it slowly between his avenue of chest hair and down to grab his sex. She flicked her hair to find a better angle and adjust herself over him; she rubbed flesh against flesh, keeping her hold on him. The friction between her core and his length was powering her up again. It was more than a tease before penetration; it was her uncommunicated statement that she'd been wrong leaving him behind. She had to bring him back to her. Everytime.

"Say it again," she commanded.

"You're perfect." She closed her eyes brought her face closer to his, still rubbing herself up and down his length.

"Not that."

Genuine smiling eyes landed on her face. He stroked her cheek, his thumb caressing the corner of her mouth and said: "I love you."

She smiled and placed her arm behind her back and began stroking his balls. He moaned at the touch and felt her rub herself faster against him.

"Say you want me."

"I've always wanted you."

She reached his shaft and placed it against her entrance, circling it with its head. His heart burst when she eased him into her. She moved up and down his length slowly to allow him the pleasure of her tightness. She then moved her hands to his abdomen, enjoying waves of contractions beneath her finger tips. He watched her as her moans fell one by one from her mouth. He dropped his gaze to her chest, seeing her arch her back and place a hand on his thigh for support, catching glimpses of her pelvis thrusting forward and breasts sticking out as if she were dancing rituals – conjuring the ghost of the ravenous roughness they'd shared in Lower Vine Brook. The renewed efforts on his cock, how her vagina clenched – bands of muscles alternating depending on where she tightened up got him to grasp the extent of his insatiable curiosity for her. Every feeling but passion was flowing through them simply because they were its incarnation.

He took hold of the hand that was flat against his stomach and positioned it against her entrance. Her eyes shot wide open – she didn't know if he could tell she was blushing anymore. She slowed down her impaling plunges and answered the silent question, her gaze fixated on his own. She started rubbing her clit for him, slowly at first, settled on a progressive rhythm and felt him rest a hand on her waist. He accompanied her strokes by thrusting his hips forward, his sex flexing and jerking against her G-spot. She was reaching that sweet wave again. He took in her beauty again, staring at the intense contrast between them; forceful and slow for him, soft and rapid for her. She'd always been quicker at knowing things, never pressing him to open up until he did it himself, without thinking about the consequences. He'd said 'I love you' to her, recklessly and out of combustion and taken too much time pretending to analyze feelings he knew where true. He realized he didn't have to look at her to tell how perfect she was, he felt himself coming just by thinking of her. He feared for his gender for a moment and smiled.

He slipped out of her wetness and flunked her back on the bed. She collapsed on the mattress and watched him reach out a hand to turn the light switch beside his bed off.

"What was that?" He was on top of her in no time. She could feel him panting against her.

"Just wait for it, you'll see." He sounded ecstatic, kissing her face in the dark moonlight. He found her mouth again and she hummed okay into it. She had no idea where he was going with this and couldn't care less when she felt him enter her again. He thrust all the way in, hard enough that she felt herself bouncing off the mattress. He pulled her into an embrace, cradling his arms under her shoulder blades and placed a hand against the nape of her neck.

"I want you. I will always want you. Now say it." He pushed harder into her, feeling her body tense up under him. He buried his face into the crook of her neck.

Crying out moans of revolt against her submission, she surrendered. "I love you."

She then gripped his shoulders and urged him on. "Faster… faster... Har–"

He reamed into her in a frantic rhythm, their heads squashed against the headboard. She couldn't scoot away from him even if she'd wanted to. Her body took the full length of him, sexual need hurling out with massive swearing and panting.

He felt her bring her knees up to take him in even further and heard her breath coming in gasps. "Don't… stop."

The Waning Gibbous Moon decreased in light from full to view. It had graced their entwined and writhing bodies. They were exposed, introspecting themselves in the purest of ways and giving way to energy and fulfillment. Everything was getting darker around them, sounds filled in the blanks – no need to see, no need to talk, no need to think.

Her vagina gripped his sex in a pulsing fashion and made it impossible for him to hold off. Even if he were the worst lover, she would always come first.

* * *

It took him over a minute to roll off her. He looked at the reflection of dawn on the ceiling with a feeling of satisfaction.

She placed the covers over his relaxed self; her hair absorbed his sweat as she rested her head over his abdomen, their bodies looking like a T-shaped cross. His warm torso became her favorite pillow. She gazed at the door and felt him stroke her hair lightly. "I see you've finally wrapped your head around... closing doors."

"Well apparently, you don't know how to make a bed." He chuckled. The bed was even more of a mess now. But its prior state had felt like an enigma. "What have you been doing in here?"

She turned her head back to meet his, barely visible with the contrast of the New York Skyline behind them and that moonlight he'd been so fascinated with during sex. Love; she came to the once forbidden conclusion that sex with him could never be just sex.

Had she brought anyone else over? Had they fucked in his bed? She wouldn't have. He'd been digging for fire and what he found was a whole other level of sex. It was his thing but it was hers too. Those questions would remain unanswered anyway; because no matter how much it pained him, she didn't owe him anything.

"Night-dreaming about you." She caressed his cheek, feeling the first hair that would grow stubble.

"You mean daydreaming, right?" She could feel the quizzical brow under her fingertips, facial muscles flexing – a slow dancing plunge into the reality of him.

"Something like that, I guess." She sighed. "I'm sorry, I didn't have it in me to clean everything."

"God you're a cave woman." He kept caressing her hair.

She closed her eyes and smiled, receptive to his touch. "How did you know I'd be here?"

"I came home with the intent of going to your place after. But I saw your things all over the place. You know how I like my apartment tidy."

"You wanted to reprimand me, is that it?" She laughed.

"I don't think it's the reason I came all the way here. But sure, I can reprimand you now if you want." He could have left it at the reason – for she started feeling beside herself at the way he'd let go of his idea and joked.

"What happened to your face?" She pressed for answers.

"I got carried away," he sighed, switching his eyes back to the darkened contours of her face. "It's fine…" There was more to it. But he wasn't ready to tell her. Everything was still a process that he had to figure out by himself – as if she were the wings and he had to find a way to fly without them. It wasn't necessarily healthy. But it was the most honest he could be with himself. He'd taken too much time to speak and so, continued with a joke. "This must have felt nice for you, didn't it?"

"Typical," she huffed. It had and she wanted to tell him all about it. Instead of doing that however, she simply agreed with a slight tilt of her head and a yes.

He was caressing her cheek by then and said: "I got to feel it too again, you know."

"I hope you mean my face, Mister." She would hold him in contempt for sure if he answered with another witty reply.

He laughed a little. "Of course that's what I mean."

She felt the rise and fall of his chest – intakes and outtakes of air, a perfect motion between two feelings: stability and excitement. She'd felt contractions though, moments of doubt in his flesh and released the one statement she never thought she'd say to Harvey Reginald Specter.

"You never cut yourself shaving before."

"I did when I was 18." He paused, his head propped up on his arms as he reviewed the few times it had happened before. This had been nothing like it. He wanted her to press his buttons so it seemed appropriate at the time to press hers. "Have you been seeing someone else?" He felt her head go rigid, tension setting in her neck.

She swallowed hard; her desire to have him open up about these cuts stronger than the anger swelling in her eyes. "First, did you just want to scalp that beard off your face? As far as your question goes, I will leave it at a firm no. And if you can't trust me then–"

"I trust you. I'm sorry." He pulled her into his arms, against his chest. "Aren't you cold?" He kissed the top of her head.

"Just answer me, Harvey." She said, disentangling herself from him, and laid close beside him before pulling the covers over herself.

"It had to hurt, Donna," he admitted, feeling her breath against his neck. "It had to go."

She said nothing, his body tensed up from feet to hands. "I realized that counting days wasn't going to help me forget you or give us those thirteen years back."

"Why do you keep thinking I regret those years working for you?" She placed a hand at the back of his neck, pillow cool against her hand.

"I should have given you more."

She grabbed his clenched hand and tried inserting hers into his grip. "Let go, Harvey," she begged for him to accept her hand.

"I should have, Donna." He rested his jaw against her forehead, rubbing it slightly.

She accepted his touch, easing him into her next words as gently as she could. "And I would have never said yes but…" The words were harsh, while those left out and inaudible to him haunted him. It was all too jumbled in her head for her to lay it all – hopes for the future – out. She settled for his earlier words instead.

He felt her hand soothe his the second she let go. "But I cried out for more tonight, didn't I?"

* * *

She couldn't believe she'd woken up in his bed with him sleeping alongside her. The moon still visible in the dawn sky; the satellite – being the second brightest visible celestial object reminded her of the painting of a small and big sun in Lexington.

Her head, joints, back and inside muscles were sore from last night's activities but the aching feelings were all worth it. She rolled over and propped herself on one elbow to admire his face and barely open mouth. Her eyes moved from his collarbone to the slow rise and fall of his chest. She couldn't believe how much she wanted him again. She'd never felt this way about any of the men she'd been with. He was so easy to behold. He was her romantic painting – her version of the Friedrich's _Wanderer above the Sea of Fog_. A romantic hero frozen in space and time, gazing at the city he'd conquered and yet forever contemplating an uncertain future. She'd seen him atop the precipice by his window so many times – the insignificance within him eating away at his self-reflection. Was she in the fog that he was trying to see through? Was she essence of it – the fog stretching out indefinitely? Or was she the outside-the-frame observer supposed to reach out to him and bring him back to solid ground?

She was his past too – and one of his numerous failures according to him. But the wanderer in the painting has his back to the viewer, wears a dark green overcoat and grips a walking stick for support. Harvey had more than a stick. He had her. Maybe neither of them needed to know, they just had to have faith. He was right; she just had to wait for it. Two suns in the sky, one waking up as another disappeared – past and present orbiting each other, always meeting but not always seen. They simply had to trust that it was there to remind them how to move forward, building on the past.

She felt him stir and kissed his lips to signal her presence beside him.

"Good morning." Her lips felt soft against his.

"You know that you snore a little." She smiled against his lips and moved to kiss his cheek and sought the comfort of his hot neck.

He raised an eyebrow. "8 hours into our make-up and you're already trying to say you can't sleep with me?"

"Hm… that's not what I said." She moved her hand down to his crotch, stroking it gently above the covers. He groaned at the touch.

He watched her cascading red hair fall over his face as she planted another one on him, all forms of self-consciousness regarding the exchange of morning breath vanished and were replaced by strong sensuality. She pulled the covers away, turned around and began a slow descent to where her hand was. She pressed her lips against his flaccid cock, challenging to wake up with wet kisses.

He heaved a sigh and warned her: "Donna…"

She felt it jerk and switch angles. "It's okay, I can be late for work." She bit it gently and took him in her mouth, beginning a slow suction. His eyes rolled at the back of his head. She was too beautiful to say no to but he knew this had to stop.

"But I can't," he moaned, feeling himself grow inside her mouth. And then the alarm went off.

She let go of him with an unamused look on her face, eyes darting north. "You set the alarm to an earlier time."

She turned to him, a threatening grip on his sex.

"Guilty as charged." He looked sideways, trying to avoid her burning gaze. "Not stiff yet, this can't hurt me, you know." He gulped knowingly. He was at her mercy anyway.

"Pray tell why you would need to flee the scene of the crime."

"First, you and I both know this isn't a crime scene. Second," he sighed. "I have a meeting with Robert at 9."

She loosened her grip, moved out of the bed and remained silent, naked for the entire city to see.

"I knew this would come as a shock." He got up too.

"Are you coming back?"

"I don't know in what capacity yet... but yes."

"I thought you needed my help with this."

"I did… I still do. But we finally have this now and it's more important to me than work."

"Do you want to be managing partner again?" He could tell she was about to cry. "Cause Harvey, I won't be able to go through another inside war…"

"Hey, hey… Donna, stop." He forced her to turn around and pulled her into a hug, cradling her head in the crook of his neck. "He called me, he needs my help."

"I know…" She whimpered, "He asked me to text you."

"I know, I read all of them."

"Do you want to be a lawyer again?" She tilted her head back to meet his eyes.

"I…" He began cupping her cheek before wiping a tear away with his thumb. "I am a lawyer. And even though it took me some time I realized this wasn't just about everyone leaving and me losing faith in what I did. My main concern was with having to see you move on with someone else because I didn't think you wanted me."

"So you played me by leaving."

"I didn't play you. I had to know where I stood."

"Okay." She let out and added, "Then you should know I took quite a gamble on us too." This was all about building on the past and opening up about it.

"I know." He sighed. "You had to know that I would come back to you for good. I don't blame you."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you when I had the chance."

"I'm sorry it took me so long to tell you the truth about my feelings for you." No more secrets. And even if more was to be revealed, he had to believe in the morning sun which graced the curves of the woman next to him.

She wiped the remaining tears off her face and used a defiant chin thrust. "Go grab a shower and then come back here because this time," she gestured at him, the fingertip of her index finger applying pressure on his chest, "I'm going to be the one watching you get dressed."

"Are you sending me away right now?" He went from narrowing his eyes at her to eyeing her suggestively with a cocky smile. "Or is this just your way of catching a glimpse of my perfect body?"

"God, Harvey. I had your dick in my mouth only 5 minutes ago and you think all I want to see is, you, walking your ass out of the bedroom?" She shook her head in disbelief and walked her swaying hips out in the direction of the bathroom.

He lost it, ran after her and blocked her from closing the door on him. He pulled her into a kiss and closed the door behind them.

* * *

They didn't know where their minds were or where their life was going. Like that Pixies song, what did they have to lose? They just knew, having that shower together, that they were products of their time: the poster boy and the poster girl, the cunning ex-secretary and her cut-throat, up in your face, attorney who had spent most of their life above water had finally dived into that ocean of hurdles. Fated and swimming with the current that would take them to the unknown, they'd let themselves go. They wouldn't tolerate any more bullshit from each other. They weren't just fucking around, they were fucking. Standing beneath the shower with him upright, legs locked around his waist. She'd been right, meetings could wait. The water was running fast; steam and heavy panting had turned the glass walls into an impressionist painting. Eyes closed, back arched, head against the cooler tiles and mouth open under the shower spray. Pelvic thrusts increasing, hearts pounding as her nails scratched his back and neck to the point of drawing blood. They were crazy in love, lost and confused and yet, ready to find that new purpose. He would have lost his sense of life hadn't she come for him. That was how Harvey had interpreted his journey back to her anyway. Not giving a care in the world whether he was late or not. His mind was with hers and that was enough.

* * *

Two executives walked the symbolistic white halls of Specter Zane Litt. Overpriced lease, overpriced suit, overpriced dress, overpriced pairs of shoes, overpriced watch, cufflinks and pieces of jewelry. Alone in the elevator, Donna adjusted his tie.

"I'm no psychic but I can tell today's going to be great."

"And why's that?" He raised an eyebrow, finally able to enjoy such a simple gesture fully.

"First," she started, glancing at him while working on the knot, "I got to pick my favorite suit of yours."

"Then know this, if I go with my black suits, it'll mean I'm pissed and want make-up sex."

"And if you pick this one, what will it mean?"

"It'll mean that maybe I want something to change about us like expanding the family."

"Expanding the family?" She looked shocked.

"I've always wanted a dog."

"Is this what you really want?"

"No." He seemed dead serious and it took her aback. He took her hand. "I'm grasping at straws here but if… if it's possible…"

"Harvey?"

"Yes, Donna?" He imitated her.

"Okay."

"Okay, you'll think about it?"

"I've already thought about it."

"Good." He tried not to beam.

"Good." She nodded with a semblance of hope in her face and pressed her lips against his. The elevator doors opened and she added: "Besides, that deer would adjust well in your moonlit apartment."

"Wait, what?"

"We could call her Luna." She exited the elevator. Harvey quickly followed after her.

"Luna?" Louis was opposite them, waiting for the other elevator. "Who's Luna?"

"The deer Harvey wants me to bring home."

"What the fuck?" As if he hadn't registered the man in the suit in front of him, Louis gasped, his brain going from 0 to 60 in one second. "Har-Harvey?"

"Hey Louis," Harvey waved with a sheepish look on his face. He hadn't seen the man he considered a kick-ass lawyer and one of his friends in a while and he couldn't believe how happy he felt.

Louis walked up to Harvey and was about to pull him into a hug but settled on a handshake instead. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you."

"Come on, Louis. I know you want that hug." Harvey said, hands in each pocket. The smaller man didn't need to be told twice and hugged him.

Donna didn't know if she wanted to cry laughing or cry real tears at the happy reunion. The look on Harvey's stance was a sight to be seen for sure: happy and squeezed. He patted the man's shoulder and said: "Good to see you too, Louis."

"I have a meeting with Cage & Sons' human resources in the conference room Harvey." She stepped in as soon as the hug was over. "I'll see you later, okay?" She kissed his cheek and he turned his head just in time to catch her mouth.

Louis was flabbergasted to say the least. "Wait… are you two…"

"Yes, Louis," Donna smiled, having a hard time letting go of his lips and teased. "Do you need a day?"

"I would ask for an entire week if I could." Harvey gazed at her face and she could feel herself blushing.

"No, I'm good. Congratulations, guys." Louis smiled at the couple.

"Thanks Louis." Donna's strut echoed against the walls and Harvey couldn't wait to see that blue V-neck dress again. His plan was to cross paths with the woman wearing it all day.

"I really am happy for you guys." Louis patted Harvey's shoulder.

"She hasn't said anything but I'm sure you helped her through it all, Buddy. I just wanted to say thank you." Harvey extended his hand to Louis.

"There wasn't much I could do, Harvey. But I also trusted her to have done the right thing. Even if that meant leaving you, wherever you were."

"She did."

"I knew you'd come back eventually anyway," Louis smirked.

"Oh, really?"

"You've always been in love with her."

"This is part of the reason why I left, Louis." Harvey narrowed his eyes.

"No, that bullshit excuse about wanting to retire had nothing to do with the law, Harvey. You are a lawyer; you'll always be a lawyer. This was all about her."

Harvey didn't know what to say. The financial adviser understood love more than him and that was a fact.

"And, therefore, this was all about you." Louis stepped into the elevator. "She's beaming, Harvey. And she trusts you not to screw it up." Louis concluded, leaving Harvey an emotion that shot up to his neck and down his chest. The pang lasted only the briefest of seconds but it had reached his state of mind. What if he screwed it up?

* * *

Harvey knocked on Robert's door a little paler than when he'd arrived on the 50th floor.

"Harvey!" Robert rose up from his chair and went to shake the other attorney's hand. "So great to see you."

"Hey, Robert. Sorry for being late, I was…"

"Enjoying the company of a certain redhead?" Robert smirked.

This brought a smile back to Harvey's face. He was with her. Nothing could come in the way of them. He had to relax. He had to hold on to what was real between them and forget his issues. Harvey nodded. "Yes. And she's in the conference room right now with our new client's human resources director."

"Our client… so I take it that you want to come back for good?" Robert offered Harvey a seat.

"You thought I'd just come back to help you?" Harvey sat down. "You're a great lawyer, Robert. You didn't need me. You asked her to call me, remember? You did everything you–"

Robert cut him off. "She's an amazing COO, Harvey. She was working day and night on that client for us. But she was a mess both before and after she came to see you. I couldn't just sit back and do nothing."

"Thank you for having her back, Robert."

"Always." Robert nodded. "So…did that work?"

"Abusively calling and texting me?"

"Yes."

"No."

"Well, you're here…"

"Only because between me and you, I'm the better closer." Harvey smiled.

The two men laughed as if synchronized. "Well… I'm glad I'm going to be able to retire first now."

"Who's to say I'm not going to try to take your name down and pressure you into early retirement?"

"Okay, I'm willing to make you a deal." Robert offered.

"I want Donna and I to have all our weekends. No meetings on Mondays and Tuesdays and limit her workload too. Anything that might take us away from enjoying those weekends."

"Done."

"My phone will very likely be off. Awful reception in the Boston area. So don't try to contact me on those days."

"It's okay, I'll call your woman."

"I think she might kill you if she ever hears you call her that."

"But you like the sound of it, don't you?"

"I'm the man in this story, so I guess I do." Harvey smiled.

"Okay. We've got a lot to discuss. Want some coffee?"

"Sure. Got any vanilla?"

* * *

Harvey had been working with Robert for over two hours. He walked in the direction of the conference room. Donna wasn't there. It was way past lunch time so he texted her to find out where she was. He crossed paths with Katrina and Alex. The both of them were just as pleased to see him as everybody else. They told him about cases they were working on and how both Louis and Sam were both pains in their asses – albeit differently.

Minutes passed and she hadn't answered any of his texts. He bid goodbye to Alex and Katrina and hurried to her office. He saw her exit with a man he didn't recognize at first. Everything unfolded in slow motion. She was beaming, laughing, the sexy sway of her hips all too familiar to him. One of her hands was on the man's shoulder, stroking it just as slowly as he'd felt it in his heart, in his vision of them. He clenched his fists instinctively. The man was Mark Meadows.

Donna spun on her heels and saw him. She waved for him to join them but he couldn't move. His worst fear looked him right in the eye. Betrayal or having to watch her walk up to him with a man who was wearing a cheap and unmatching suit.

"Harvey! You remember Mark." Donna's smile fell from her lips the moment she caught a better look of his face.

"Hello, Harvey. Nice to see you again." Mark offered his hand for him to shake.

Harvey's face was expressionless. He shook the other man's hand, unwillingly.

"I hear congratulations are in order." He was probably referencing to the fact that they were an item now.

"Mark stopped by with Carla Stevens, the human resources director. He works at Cage & Sons too."

"And where is Carla Stevens now?" Harvey switched his stare to Donna.

"What's going on, Harvey? You don't seem well." Donna said, concern evident in her tone.

"I think I asked you a question." Harvey didn't feel remorse for the tone he'd used.

"She left about a minute ago." Mark explained.

 _I don't think I asked you, did I?_ This was what he'd been meaning to say instead of turning away from them and heading for the bathroom. He'd been walking towards her all day and now he was running in the opposite direction. Harvey felt desperate, angry and repulsed by the mere fact that she'd kept this from him. Maybe he was the secret rebound he'd thought of last night. He wasn't having a panic attack; this was different. Fear, anger, sadness could have transformed into a desperate move – without reason and without understanding of the situation. He had been this close to beating the shit out of this man. But most of all, he'd almost been willing to terrorize himself.

* * *

TMT

TMT

 **I hope you liked it. Don't hesitate to leave a review for this one too. Alternativeshadesofblue and I worked hard on it.**

 **Last chapter ahead. Number 13, is that a coincidence? I don't think so.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Too Many Times**

 _Suits / Donna x Harvey (darvey)_

 **Chapter 13** – _Where is my Claire de Lune?_

 _Ooh, stop_

 _With your feet in the air and your head on the ground_

 _Try this trick and spin it, yeah_

 _Your head will collapse_

 _But there's nothing in it_

 _And you'll ask yourself_

 _Where is my mind_

 _Where is my mind_

 _Where is my mind_

 _Way out in the water_

 _See it swimmin'_

 _ **Where is My Mind? – The Pixies**_

 _Claire de lune_

 _ **The Suite bergamasque – Claude Debussy**_

 _TMT_

 _TMT_

He slammed the door behind him and went to the bank of small sinks. He gripped its edge with both hands and stared at his reddened face. He was breathing heavily, preventing growls and a potential scream from escaping his mouth.

He heard her barge into the room seconds later. "What the fuck was that, Harvey?"

"Nothing…" He was trying his best to delay the inevitable. He knew that old trick couldn't work.

"Mark has been nothing but polite to you and you just had to act like a complete jackass!" She yanked his hand away from the sink. He let her do it and turned to her.

"Talk to me, Harvey…" She'd gone from yelling to speaking softly to him. She didn't want to yell at him, she wanted answers. As if stuck in that never-ending cycle, she needed him to open up. Once again as if one too many times was a rule they lived by.

He dipped his head, unable to look at her. "You never told me you'd seen him again."

"Your reaction is exactly why I didn't tell you." Her exasperated tone sent him to the edge.

"We're supposed to tell each other everything!" Bloodshot eyes met her angered ones.

"We can't Harvey!" She shouted before composing herself. "It's amazing that you want to. But you can't. That's not how life goes and you know it. There are things that you're always going to keep away from me… and I from you."

"Were you with him after you left me?" He swallowed the thought of them screwing deep in his throat.

"No." He was walking in her direction. She knew he was testing her resolve. This was him interrogating; this was her in her secretary skin all over again. Power of attorney v. power of utter adoration; she knew this day would come but she never thought it would be so soon. Timing had never been their strongest suit anyway.

"Were you with him before?" She took a step back. Maybe two. At some point she hit one of the bathroom doors.

"No…"

"There's a 'but' in there. Come clean, Donna." His face was inches from hers.

"I kissed him."

"When?"

"Three months after you left." She gulped, feeling his breath on her mouth.

"And how did it make you feel?"

"I wanted you to watch. I wanted you jealous of me and him. I wanted you to fight for me. But you weren't there!"

"Who broke the kiss?" He didn't want to ask but at least, it could make it seem like he'd been there at that moment. Rewriting history in his head was the one thing that made him feel close to her.

"I did."

"Why?"

"Because he was the only other man I'd ever felt anything for." He was breathing heavily. Mouth so close to hers. "And I felt nothing."

She saw him angle his head a certain way. He was going to kiss her and she would be able to take away the fear of betrayal he felt. They would even out each other's fears, insecurities and expiate their sins. "You were it for me. You were the only one."

"Would you have come for me had he not been there?" But that kiss never came.

"I don't know, Harvey. I don't know. Like I don't know if I can have children anymore. You're asking the impossible from me."

A single tear fell on her dress, staining the beauty of a morning they'd spent together. The teardrop burned through her dress and into her heart as the other half of their matching blue looks disappeared from view.

* * *

Donna got out of the bathroom and stumbled into Samantha who was going in.

"Donna, are you okay? You look all shaken up," the blond let out.

"You know what? You're right, I'm not." She stood looking at her, unabashedly.

"Is this because of Harvey? I saw that he was back… and darting away from here."

"My boyfriend's a mess and I realize that it's not even his fault. Maybe some of it is but that's the problem." She paused to catch her breath. "What just happened _is_ all my fault because… I've always tried to show him that I wanted more instead of fucking telling him. Do you want your relationships to work, Samantha?"

"Sure… But one would be enough at this point to be honest," she confessed, calm and wide-eyed.

"You deserve what you want and if you don't try to get it, what's the point? I lost that purpose and for a long time I put it in a box and hid it away from view. Don't lie, don't hide anything. Just tell him."

Samantha had no time to reply for the redhead was gone.

* * *

Harvey walked all the way from the office to Gramercy Park. He needed to clear his head and be reminded of the air trees filtered naturally. He sat on a bench and took his iPhone out. No missed calls. Not that he expected any.

There were no animals here. Gramercy was never a dog-friendly zone. Still he'd read in the paper that residents were furious about growing piles of dog poop. Dogs and their owners would trespass at night, avoid detection and mark their territory. Had the deer been back in Lexington? Would it, ever? Would she ever be able to forgive him for taking so long to understand? This wasn't how today was supposed to go. They were happy this morning. They were still happy, weren't they? There was nothing here at all for him. At least not without her and she'd chosen him over her ex.

He'd been a jerk to Mark and he knew it. Faith, trust, whatever it was that he'd tried to rack his brain around was a foolish ideal. He couldn't change who he was. He was a possessive asshole. That was all he'd ever been to her. But he couldn't bear the thought of her turning her head someday and not seeing him. If he was her Hell and she his Heaven, couldn't they coexist together? Couldn't they re-enact another thirteen years and hopefully more as they were and as they should have been? Trespass on their inner sorrows; exist through words that told instead of leaving things unsaid? His line of questioning hadn't been the right one. But he had no other way of telling her how he felt. People don't change themselves. They're changed by others around them. A law book couldn't open his eyes but she had. She had since day one.

He read some of the texts Robert had sent him after he left, trying not to read Donna's for the umpteenth time. One of them caught his attention; he'd read it a lot too.

 _I know you're part of the reason why this firm is one of the top firms in NY, Harvey. I just wanted to say that you've only been gone a week and executives and associates alike feel your absence. I never had any intention of putting another name on the wall without your consent. I understand your reasons for leaving. I just hope it doesn't make you forget who you are. You've served the law to the best of your ability. You're a dignified lawyer and I hope you'll find your way back to Specter Zane Litt somehow. Rob._

He'd served the law to the best of his ability. To the best of one's ability. The words lingered, swirling on his tongue. The closer opened a web page and typed in: Section II Admission NYSB. This was from the moral character section. The one he'd read before making the decision to leave.

 _I do solemnly swear that I will support the Constitution of the United States, and the New York Constitution, and that I will faithfully discharge the duties of the office of attorney and counselor at law of the Supreme Court of the State of New York according to the best of my ability._

 _Faithfully_. Not truthfully. She'd been right. He hired a fraud in the hopes of doing good; the grey area was just it: grey. The end had always justified the means. And what better way to serve the most important piece of writing there was to bind a people together than by committing to it, keeping it close and professing its love for it?

 _To the best of my Ability_. Not abilities. No one had asked him to be an all-powerful creature. This was the most human notion he'd ever read. The end had to justify the means. Mike had shown him a better end. And he'd fucked everything up on more than one occasion but he'd stayed faithful to her, having committed to her, kept her close and professed his love for her. At some point his ability had become disenchanted from fear of an intangible unknown. Her feelings for him.

How the Constitution felt about him, he would never know; it was simply there to protect him and the rest of America's citizens. Maybe this had been her job for him all along too and he just needed to have faith that this was the purest form of love.

* * *

Donna was in her office – she hadn't got any work done. She felt trapped in that old skin of hers. She hadn't felt her purpose as a woman so achingly disdainful before. She'd thought about having children before. Thirteen years, was this – children – one other reason why he'd brought it up so many times? Her increased sex drive, the disorder she felt in her belly were symptoms she was too familiar with; her body telling her she had little time to act if she wanted to repopulate Earth. Society couldn't pressure her into it. So, how come he could? Simple: because he was the only one she wanted children with. She was rewinding again; her brain had come up with a shadow play of their argument in the bathroom; no shades, no colors, a bunch of direction-less feelings and the strain twisting at her guts.

She should have told him about Mark but she didn't think he would have been ready to hear it. A kiss was more than a blow job and she knew it. A kiss meant she'd been trying to feel something deeper. But his jealousy had never taken such a turn of events. He knew she'd been with other men and that she had kissed them, just like he had. But situations had changed and a form of commitment had been made on his end when he left.

She checked her phone. He hadn't called or texted her. She settled on the texts she'd sent him. One in particular captured the misconceptions in her head so bitterly.

 _Harvey… Are you in love with me? What have I done wrong?_

Blameless or not, she couldn't help feeling as if she had it all wrong. Telling him to let go of a relationship – forget it had ever happened. He wasn't ready but would he ever be? He would always get jealous and she would always feel like she couldn't be enough. She hadn't given them time to evolve differently. Calling her in the morning twelve years ago to offer her a job was just his inability to open up about what he really wanted: to build a family. And she'd made sure it didn't involve her in this particular way. The firm had become it instead.

She browsed the web on her smartphone for a landline number. She called the one person she thought could give her answers; she was determined to ball her out too.

"Hello?"

"Lily, this is Donna."

"Oh, Donna it's so nice of you to call. What can I do for you?"

"Harvey's back." Donna gripped the phone tightly in her hand. Her tone was crystal clear – a warning that this conversation wouldn't go smoothly.

"Donna, you sound a little off. Is everything alright?" Her words sounded perfectly frail to the redhead.

"Why did you have to make him so loyal and yet so afraid?" She practically shouted.

"Donna, I don't understand, I –"

Donna interrupted her. "You should understand, Lily! You made him like this. You asked him to remain loyal to you when you cheated on Gordon. And now he can't even trust me when I tell him I won't ever do that to him."

"I'm sorry, Donna. I thought… I thought he would…"

"Well, you thought wrong. This is not healthy for him and it sure as hell isn't healthy for me."

Lily began to cry. "Don't you think I know that? Don't you think I feel like the worst mother in this entire freaking world? And I paid for it. I didn't see my son for years. He never got married, he never had children, he…"

Donna could tell the woman had everything else stuck in her throat. She was wrong. This wasn't the way.

"You're not a bad mother, Lily."

"I am, Donna. And you've been the one to suffer from it the most."

"I'm sorry for coming at you like this, it's just that we had another fight and I'm second guessing everything and I just don't think I can anymore."

"You have every right to call me on my bullshit." This was so something Harvey would say.

"No, I don't. I'm a grown ass woman who can't fight her own battles."

"You can, you have and you will again, Donna. My son is in love with you–"

Donna cut her off again. "He says he wants to have kids."

She could hear Lily gulp on the other. "And you don't?"

"I'm over forty; this might never happen for me." Donna felt another series of tears flooding out of her.

"You know this is the 21st century, Donna? Anything could happen. Some women have children at 50 now."

"But I'm not even sure that would make him happy. I believe he's saying that because he knows I'm getting too old and that in that twisted mind of his, this is something he's deprived me of somehow."

"I don't think it is, Donna."

"Nothing else tells me that it isn't."

"When Harvey was about 8, he asked me if he could have a sister for Christmas. I told him that it wasn't an option and that having kids was the biggest life decision. You know what he said?" Donna held her breath. "He said that he would have kids someday and that he'd ask his wife every Christmas until she said yes."

Donna laughed, "But this isn't Christmas and I'm not his wife."

"8, Donna. He was 8. He isn't married. He doesn't have children and he's just asked you."

"Commitment," Donna sighed.

"No matter the outcome."

"Thank you, Lily."

"No, thank you Donna. For everything."

* * *

Night had fallen and she was here. She'd put a record on. The only classical music vinyl he had in his collection. He'd bought it after she'd suggested it. It was a collection of some of the most famous music pieces. From Chopin, Beethoven and Rachmaninoff to Debussy. He had jazz but she had this. She looked magnificent, seated on the couch, facing his record collection. He'd changed the position of the armchair some four months ago, seeking companionship through music. He wondered how much time she'd spent in his office when he was away. Maybe none or maybe too much.

The pale hue of red, white and blue, with for sole contrast the amber liquid in her hand, looked almighty; she who had unequivocally partnered with him was more than a sight to behold. She was his everything, his protector and his soul. His office – the place he hadn't been to all day – couldn't have felt more welcoming.

He put a hand on her shoulder. "Hey."

"Hey." She didn't move.

"I like this piece." It was one of Chopin's Nocturnes. E-flat major, Op. 9 - No.2.

"I've always known this was your jam too."

"I like the next one even more." She was about to say something but he continued instead. "I know why you stopped playing… I just don't understand why you didn't take it up again."

"I wanted to. But every time I see a piano, I think of the one that's been taken away from me," she admitted, resting her hand against his. "It was the piano I learned to play with. Music can be performed everywhere and it's probably what matters to most people. But not to me."

"Your own music was in that piano." The memory of it – feelings embodied in one object, in one place like a can opener, a hometown, an office, even in a person.

"There are some things you just can't let go of even if it prevents you from discovering more or something else."

"You made me like Theater and Classical music," he shrugged.

"You don't like it, Harvey. You tolerate it at best," she huffed.

"True." He licked his lips. "But it's a part of you I can't ignore. This is part of your past."

He was stroking her shoulder more. She kissed his hand.

"I'm sorry about Mark," he let out.

"I know you are."

"I can't promise you that I won't get jealous. But I'll never do anything stupid like that again."

"I got jealous when I thought there was more between you and Sophie, remember?"

"True," he chuckled.

"But it wasn't a kiss which is why I understand where you're coming from."

"You do?" He gulped. He didn't want forgiveness and yet, it felt good. The feeling stirred something in him as if she'd discovered something he wasn't even aware of.

"You were protecting yourself, shutting yourself off. This is your defense mechanism. And I don't think you should change it. I don't want you to. Because I know you're able to tell me about it now."

"Then I promise you this," he paused, squatting down behind her frame and the armchair. "I will never, you hear me, never ask you to change anything about who you are. But if you or I change, I will make it my life's purpose to do right by you."

"Harvey…" she began, standing up slowly as if moving to the tempo floating in the air, she set the half-emptied drink on the table. She moved around the piece of furniture and noticed he was hiding something behind his back but said nothing of it.

"If Hell's coming with me and no matter how much I want you to stay, I will never ask you to follow."

"Harvey, you still don't get it, do you? I'm never letting you leave me again. And I certainly won't ever leave your side." She brought a hand to his face and stroked his five – close to – 8 o'clock shadow. "Interesting…"

"Yeah, I know, I used to shave during the day... before." Claude Debussy's _Claire de Lune_ began playing.

"I like it," she smiled. "Now, are you gonna tell me what's behind your back?" she raised a brow.

He narrowed his eyes and said: "Can I get a kiss first?"

She pretended to hesitate for a moment but he ended her playful behavior with the softest kiss.

He lingered a little before pulling away, leaving her flushed. "You're not gonna ask me to marry you, are you?"

He chuckled: "Not today. But I will."

She heaved a sigh of relief and had her breath stuck in her throat when she saw the stuffed animal in his hands.

"Is that a…" She gasped.

"Yes Dear, it's a deer or a moose, I'm not even sure now."

"It's a deer, Harvey."

"So you really want this?"

"I just want you. I don't care about the rest. But this is my way of saying that hadn't I been too stubborn or too weak to tell you the truth, I would have –"

"Asked me at Christmas?" She raised a brow trying to suppress a smile.

"How do you–" His eyes went wide.

"Know about that? Am I not Donna anymore?" She looked around as if questioning an invisible crowd. "Or maybe am I not capable of venting about you to your mother?"

He laughed and pulled her into a tight embrace, swaying, dancing to the music even. "So you ran to Mommy Dearest."

"As far as I'm concerned, she's still your mother," Donna replied, dryly.

"And she'll always be." He paused, staring into her wooded-colored eyes, before adding, "And you… God… you make feel like everything's going to be fine. I know everything through you."

"And what is it exactly that you know?"

"I don't know anything Donna; I just have faith in you and me."

Donna pulled him into a kiss because there was nothing else left to say. Tongues met in a soft kiss. "Thanks for the deer." She murmured into his mouth.

"You're wel…come." He intensified the kiss, taking possession of her, enjoying the sour taste of scotch. Tasting her and tasting him as if nothing could come in between.

"Harvey?"

"Donna?"

"We can't do this here, can we?"

He broke the kiss, feeling very tight in his pants suddenly. Her head fell on his shoulder. He chuckled. "Can't say I haven't thought of it before…"

"We don't want anyone catching us in the act, though?"

"No, we don't." He kissed her forehead.

"Yeah, let's go home. Now." The lust in her eyes, the way she grabbed the stuffed animal and commanded him told him this wasn't the end of a record but the beginning of another soundtrack.

She took his hand and led him out of the office.

"You know I asked Robert to give us our weekends off. I still have Little League practice on the weekends, you know."

Voices faded in the not-so-busy corridor.

"And you had to go behind my back again…"

"I thought you'd be … to go… to Lexington…"

"Fine. But I'm…re..corating … place…"

The music stopped, words vanished and time set in.

-The End.

* * *

 _TMT_

 _TMT_

 **Thank you all for this incredible ride. I hope you liked this final chapter. I hope I made you feel all sorts of emotions. It was a great month. Can't believe I wrote all of that, lol. Should I go back to living my life now? I don't even know what's out there anymore! Are autonomous cars a thing now?**

 **Do you mind if I ask you guys for reviews one last time? ^^**

 **I have no words to describe my person/beta who helped me through all of this.** AlternateShadesofBlue **you truly are an inspiration and I couldn't have hoped for a better friend. Now onto your fic. Business as usual. ;) Go read Intersextion guys cause this one isn't over yet. More awesomeness coming your way!**

 **And I'll finish this by using Harvey's words to Donna : "I have faith in them". ;)** **I can't wait for season 8 and hope to see some of my shit unfold on screen. Let's keep hoping guys. And if it doesn't happen, well, we'll always have fanfictions.**

 **AND EVEN IF YOU COME ACROSS THIS FIC, LET'S SAY, 10 YEARS FROM NOW. PLEASE LEAVE ME A REVIEW!**


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